AN  INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH 
LITERATURE 


WORKS  WRITTEN  OR  EDITED  BY 

HENRY  S.   PANCOAST 

AN  INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

With  maps,  chronological  tables,  and  study  lists  of  repre- 
sentative  works  for  collateral  reading.  556  pp.  i6mo, 
$1.25  net. 

Nation  :  "  It  treats  the  history  of  English  literature  as  closely 
connected  with  general  history.  The  style  is  interesting,  the 
conception  broad  and  clear,  the  biographical  details  nicely  sub- 
ordinated to  matters  more  important  .  .  .  not  even  the  dullest 
pupil  can  study  it  without  feeling  the  historical  and  logical 
continuity  of  English  literature." 

aEPRESENTATIVE  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

514  pp.    Large  i2mo.    $i.6onet. 

Includes  with  a  briefer  and  earlier  form  of  the  historical  and 
critical  matter  of  the  Introduction  the  following  selections 
(each  complete):  Chaucer:  The  Nonne  Prestes  Tale;  Good 
Counseil.  Spenser:  Prothalamion.  Shakespeare:  Merchant  o( 
Venice  (entire).  Bacon  :  Of  Great  Place;  Five  Elizabethan 
Songs.  Milton  :  L'Allegro  ;  II  Penseroso.  Dryden  :  Song  for 
St.  Cecilia's  Day.  Addison  :  Ned  Softly  the  Poet ;  Sir  Roger 
at  Church  ;  The  Fine  Lady's  Journal.  Pope :  The  Rape  of  the 
Lock.  Burns :  Poems.  Wordsworth :  Poems.  Coleridge : 
Ancient  Mariner.  Scott:  Poems.  Lamb:  Christ's  Hospital 
Five-and-Thirty  Years  Ago.  ftyron  :  Poems.  Keats  :  Poems 
Carlyle :  On  Robert  Burns.  Macaulay :  On  Samuel  Johnson. 
Browning :  Poems.  7*ennyso.'i  :  Poems,  etc. 

STANDARD  ENGLISH   POEMS    749  PP.  i6mo.  $t.5o  net. 

577  paares  of  poetry  (100  of  them  devoted  to  Victorian  verse), 
containing  some  250  complete  poems  besides  selections  from 
such  longer  ones  as  "The  Faerie  Queene,1'  "Childe  Harold's 
Pilgrimage,"  etc.  163  pp.  of  notes  (mainly  biographical)  and 
an  Index. 

STANDARD  ENGLISH  PROSE    676PP.   J2mo.  $i.so«*/. 

About  one  hundred  selections  (most  of  them  complete  In 
themselves)  from  Bacon,  Walton,  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  Fuller, 
Milton,  Jeremy  Taylor,  Cowle.y,  Bunyan,  Dryden,  Defoe,  Swift, 
Addison,  Steele,  Johnson,  Goldsmith,  Burke,  Coleridge, 
Southey,  Lamb,  Landor,  Hazlitt,  De  Quincey,  Carlyle,  Macau- 
lay,  Newman,  Froude,  Ruskin,  Thackeray,  Matthew  Arnold, 
Pater,  and  Stevenson,  with  introduction  and  notes. 

AN  INTRODUCTION  TO  AMERICAN  LITERATURE 

With  study  lists  of  works  to  be  read,  references,  chrono- 
logical tables,  and  portraits.    393  pp.     i6mo.    $1.00  net. 
This  book    follows  the  main  lines  of  the   author's  "Intro- 
duction to  English  Literature."    The   special  influence  of  our 
history  upon  our  literature  is  shown,  and  the  attention  is  chiefly 
concentrated  on  a   limited    number   of  typical  authors  and 
works,  treated  at  some  length. 

H  EN  RY  HOLT  &  CO.  " 


WILLIAM     SHAKESPEARE 


AN  INTRODUCTION 


TO 


ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


BY 


HENRY  S.   PANCOAST 

Instructor  in  English  Literature  in  the  De  Lancey  School, 
Philadelphia 


NEW  YORK 

HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1894, 

PY 

HENRY  HOLT  &  CO. 


PREFACE 


THIS  book  is  based  upon  a  previous  one,  Represent- 
ative English  Literature,  which  I  have  enlarged  in 
some  directions  and  curtailed  in  others,  in  order  to 
adapt  it  to  somewhat  different  requirements.  In  the 
former  book  a  series  of  English  masterpieces  was 
given  in  a  general  setting  of  critical  and  historical 
comment ;  the  development,  of  the  literature  being 
thus  shown  with  the  aid  of  representative  extracts 
illustrative  of  the  successive  literary  epochs.  Subse- 
quent experience  has  strengthened  my  confidence  in 
the  soundness  of  the  principle  on  which  that  book 
was  prepared,  and  for  those  who  have  not  easy  access 
to  books,  or  who  cannot  conveniently  obtain  a  number 
of  separate  works  for  class  use,  the  insertion  of  the 
suggested  selections  is  clearly  an  advantage.  On  the 
other  hand,  some  teachers  may  wish  to  use  the  his- 
torical and  critical  portions  of  such  a  book,  without 
being  restricted  to  prescribed  selections.  It  is  in  the 
hope  of  meeting  the  needs  of  teachers  of  the  latter 
class,  and  of  more  advanced  students,  that  the  present 
manual  has  been  prepared.  To  this  end  I  have  added 
some  two  hundred  pages  of  entirely  new  matter, 
omitting  all  the  selections  and  notes  included  in  the 
former  work.  The  text  has  thus  been  nearly  doubled 
in  length, and  the  book,  as  a  whole,  brought  within 

iii 


iV  PEEFACE 

•lightly  •mailer  limits.  It  has  still  been  my  object  to 
send  the  student  directly  to  the  literature  itself,  but 
here  I  have  merely  suggested  in  reading  lists  the 
selected  works,  giving  them  in  some  instances  with 
general  hints  for  study.  The  book  is  intended  to  be 
subordinate  and  supplementary  to  this,  or  some 
similar,  course  of  study;  and  the  text  is  often  made 
a  commentary,  more  or  less  direct,  on  the  works  given 
in  the  reading  list  which  follows.  I  have  tried  to 
respect  that  freedom  and  individuality  on  the  part  of 
the  teacher  which  I  believe  so  essential  to  the  best 
results,  and  I  hope  the  book  will  be  found  adapted 
to  other  courses  of  study  than  those  which  I  have 
given.  It  is  not,  of  course,  expected  that  in  any 
case  the  class  will  read  all  the  works  suggested,  but 
the  lists  and  references  have  been  made  comparatively 
full  in  order  to  afford  a  greater  liberty  of  choice. 

I  have  said  that  it  has  been  my  ambition  to  write 
an  introduction  to  English  literature — a  book  which 
shall  occupy  a  useful,  but  strictly  subordinate  place. 
It  is  still  my  conviction  that  a  history  of  English 
literature  and  a  working  hand-book,  such  as  this 
aims  to  be,  are  two  radically  different  things.  The 
€ret  aims  to  trace  the  growth  and  progress  of  a  litera- 
ture with  the  primary  purpose  of  unfolding  and 
explaining  the  law  and  nature  of  its  development. 
The  second,  while  it  has  indeed  this  object,  should 
have  also  another.  It  is  primarily  addressed  to 
students,  and  its  treatment  of  literary  history  should 
be  to  a  considerable  extent  determined  and  modified 
to  meet  their  special  needs.  It  should  of  course 
endeavor  to  give  a  true  historic  perspective,  but 


PREFACE  V 

at  the  same  time  it  should,  as  far  as  is  consistent 
with  this,  give  the  largest  space  to  those 
writers  which  it  is  most  important  for  the 
student  to  study.  Thus  the  comedies  of  the  Restora- 
tion drama  have  an  unquestioned  rank,  and  a  very- 
positive  historic  significance;  no  history  of  the  litera- 
ture could  properly  slight  them,  but  as  they  could 
not  be  read  in  any  preparatory  school,  a  manual  of 
literature  may  safely  pass  them  over  with  the  briefest 
mention.  Other  books,  again,  may  fall  outside  the 
limits  by  reason  of  their  length  and  difficulty.  In  a 
text-book  the  intrinsic  value  or  historic  importance 
of  Bacon's  Novum  Organum,  or  Locke's  Essay  on 
the  Human  Understanding,  is  by  no  means  the 
single  consideration,  and  in  general  we  may  profitably 
remember,  to  use  Lowell's  illustration,  that  many 
famous  books,  like  certain  Bills  introduced  into  Con- 
gress, are  merely  "read  by  their  titles  and  passed." 
It  is  quite  true  that  such  a  principle  of  exclusion  may 
become  dangerous  if  injudiciously  applied  ;  but  its 
danger  is  insignificant  beside  the  danger  of  compel- 
ling the  student  to  learn  by  rote  set  criticisms  on 
books  he  is  forbidden  to  read,  or  unable  to  understand. 
The  true  object  of  a  text-book  is  not  to  give  the 
student  a  fictitious  acquaintance  with  the  works  he 
cannot  read,  but  to  bring  him  into  direct  and  sympa- 
thetic contact  with  those  books  he  should  learn  to 
read  and  appreciate.  Moreover  the  omission  of  a 
large  number  of  standard  authors  is  rendered  impera- 
tive by  two  unavoidable  conditions,  the  limited  time 
at  the  command  of  the  student,  and  the  limited  space 
at  the  disposal  of  the  writer.  For  this  reason,  if  for 


vi  PREFACE 

no  other,  the  text-book  of  literature  must  follow  a 
principle  of  its  own.  If  it  attempts  to  be  a  mere 
history  of  literature  in  miniature,  authors'  names, 
dates,  and  titles  will  remain  a  dry  insoluble  residuum 
from  which  all  that  is  helpful  and  vital  has  departed. 
I  have  accordingly  tried  to  conform  to  the  conditions 
under  which  I  have  worked,  and  the  purpose  I  have 
had  in  view.  I  have  omitted,  as  formerly,  many 
writers  of  unquestioned  standing  that  I  might  place 
before  the  student  a  few  great  authors  and  their 
works  with  comparative  vividness  and  fullness.  In 
the  attempt  to  carry  out  such  a  method  troublesome 
questions  of  judgment  perpetually  present  themselves, 
and  if  I  seem  to  have  omitted  what  should  have  been 
included,  or  included  what  should  have  been  omitted, 
I  can  only  remind  my  critics  of  the  extreme  difficulty 
of  the  task. 

As  the  following  works  will  be  found  useful  in 
connection  with  the  entire  course  of  study  they  are 
given  here  in  preference  to  inserting  them  in  the 
study  list  of  any  special  period. 

GENEEAL  NOTES  AND  KEFEEENCES. 

1.  History. — Green's  History  of  the  English  People 
will  be  found  invaluable.     Teachers  are  recommended 
to  use  this  book  freely,  and  to  read,  with  the  class, 
passages  relating  to  literature  or  to  social  conditions. 
Knight's  Pictorial  History  of  England,  Craik   and 
Macf  arlane's  History  of  England. 

2.  Literature. — Stopford  Brooke's  Primer  of  Eng* 
lish   Literature.     Taine's    English    Literature    is    a 
classic,  and  is  brilliant  and  suggestive  ;  it  should  be 


PREFACE  yii 

used,  however,  with  due  allowance  for  its  author's 
peculiar  theories  and  £OA  critical  shortcomings. 
Two  recent  works  of  importance,  adapted  for 
advanced  students,  are  A.  Literary  History  of 
s  the  English  People,  by  J.  J.  Jusserand,  and  A 
)  History  of  English  Poetry,  by  W.  J.  Courthope. 
Ho  wilt's  Homes  and  Haunts  of  the  British  Poets, 
Hutton's  Literary  Landmarks  of  London,  Hare's 
Walks  About  London,  Baedeker's  Great  Britain. 
For  selections,  Ward's  English  Poets,  Chambers' 
Cyclopcedia  of  English  Literature,  Craik's  Selections 
from  English  Prose,  Cassell's  Library  of  English 
Literature,  edited  by  ]Nlorley.  For  reference,  Ry- 
lands'  Chronological  Outlines  of  English  Literature, 
Phillips'  Popular  Manual  of  English  Literature, 
Adams'  Dictionary  of  English  Literature,  Brewer's 
Header's  Handbook,  Brewer's  Dictionary  of  Phrase 
and  Fable,  Ploetz's  Epitome  of  Universal  History. 
For  study  lists,  "Welsh's  English  Masterpiece  Course, 
Winchester's  Short  Courses  of  Reading,  Hodgkin's 
Nineteenth  Century  Authors. 

The  reproduction  of  the  map  of  Shakespeare's  Lon- 
don has  been  obtained  through  the  kindness  of 
the  Philadelphia  Library,  and  I  gladly  take  this  oppor- 
tunity of  thanking  those  connected  with  that  institu- 
tion for  this  and  many  other  courtesies. 

H.  S.  P. 
,  July  23,  1894. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  REVISED  EDITION" 


Is  this  edition  critical  and  biographical  sketches 
of  Defoe,  Swift,  Goldsmith,  Burke,  and  De  Quincey 
have  been  added  ;  the  history  of  the  novel  has  been 
treated  at  greater  length,  and  the  sketch  of  Keats  has 
been  entirely  rewritten. 

H.  S.  P. 

GEBMANTOWN,  August  10,  1896. 


NOTE 
RECENT  WORKS  OF  LITERARY  HISTORY  AND  CRITICISM 

A  Short  History  of  English  Literature,  by  George  Saints- 
bury  (1898);  A  Short  History  of  Modern  English  Literature, 
by  Edmund  Gosse  (1898);  Studies  in  Early  Victorian  Litera- 
ture, by  Frederic  Harrison  (1895);  A  History  of  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury Literature  (1780-1895),  by  George  Saiutsbury  (1896); 
Puritan  and  Anglican,  by  Edward  Dowden  (1900);  The 
Literature  of  the  Georgian  Era,  by  William  Miiito,  with  an 
Introduction  by  William  Knight  (1894);  Scottish  Vernacular 
Literature,  by  T.  F.  Henderson  (1898),  and  the  series  of 
Handbooks  of  English  Literature  edited  by  Professor  Hales. 
In  this  series  the  history  of  the  literature  is  studied  by  epochs, 
as  The  Age  of  Milton,  by  J.  H.  B.  Masterman;  The  Age  of 
Di'yden,  by  Richard  Garnett;  The  Age  of  Pope,  by  John 
Dennis;  The  Age  of  Johnson,  by  Thomas  Seccombe;  The  Age 
of  Wordsworth,  by  C.  H.  Herford. 

Tiii 


PREFACE   TO  THE  REVISED  EDITION  ix 

Conspicuous  among  recent  work*  of  reference  are  Dictionary 
of  National  Biography,  edited  by  Leslie  Stephen  and  by 
Sidney  Lee  (63  vols.,  1885-1900),  with  three  Supplementary 
vols.  (1901)  edited  by  Sidney  Lee;  Social  England,  edited  by 
H.  D.  Traill  (6  vols.,  1894-1897).  This  book  is  by  various 
•writers  and  treats  of  the  history  of  industry,  the  arts,  oi'  cos- 
tume, etc.,  from  the  "  earliest  times"  to  1885.  A  new  edition 
of  Chambers'  Cyclopedia  of  English  Literature,  under  the  editor- 
ship of  David  Patrick. 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION 

PAGE 

What  Literature  is, 1 

The  Great  Divisions  of  English  Literature,          .       .  5 

PART  I 
PERIOD  OP  PREPARATION.    670-cir.  1400 

CHAPTER  I.     RACE,  LANGUAGE,  AND  LITERATURE 
BEFORE  CHAUCER 

Distinction  between  the  First  Period  and  those  fol- 
lowing,   .9 

The  Making  of  the  Race ,  12 

Literature  before  the  Norman  Conquest,           .        .  21 

Revival  of  Learning  under  Alfred,       ...  42 

Study  List  of  Early  Literature,         ....  46 

The  Norman  Conquest,          .        .        •        •        .  48 

The  Making  of  the  Language,           ....  63 

Study  List,  Norman  Conquest  to  Chaucer,    .        .  66 

CHAPTER  II.    GEOFFREY  CHAUCEB 

Chaucer's  Century,            68 

Langland's  Piers  Plowman,            ....  73 

John  Wyclif,              74 

Chaucer,                 .......  74 

Chaucer's  Works,       .......78 

Study  List,  Chaucer  and  his  Time,       ...  93 


xy  CONTENTS 

PART  H 

PERIOD  OP  ITALIAN  INFLUENCE.    Cir.  1400-1660 
CHAPTER  I.    THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING 

PAGE 

The  Coming  of  the  New  Learning  to  England,  .      99 

Expression  of  the  New  Learning  in  Literature,     .  104 

Elizabethan  England, 107 

Summary,       ........  116 

Edmund  Spenser, .    117 

Study  List,  Spenser, 123 

The  English  Drama  before  Shakespeare,           .  .124 

Shakespeare,           .......  135 

Table  of  Shakespeare's  Works,          .        .        .  .148 

Study  List,  Shakespeare, 149 

Francis  Bacon, .    154 

Summary  of  Elizabethan  Literature,     ...  160 

CHAPTER  II.    THE  PURITAN  IN  LITERATURE 

The  England  of  Milton, 164 

Later  Elizabethan  Literature,        ....  169 

The  Seventeenth  Century  Lyrists,     ....  171 

John  Milton, 174 

Study  List,  Milton, 187 


PART  HI 
PERIOD  OF  FRENCH  INFLUENCE.    1660-clr.  1750 

The  England  of  the  Restoration,  .       .       •        .    191 

The  Eighteenth  Century  Essays,  .  .        .       •        198 

Study  List,  Addison  and  Steele,  ....    206 

The  History  of  the  Novel,     .  207 


CONTENTS  xiii 

MM 

Study  List,  The  History  of  the  Novel,      .        .        .214 

Daniel  Defoe 215 

Study  List,  Defoe, 224 

Jonathan  Swift,     .......  225 

Study  List,  Swift, 233 

Alexander  Pope 235 

Study  List,  Pope, 245 

The  History  of  the  Novel  (Cont'd),  Richardson  and 

Fielding, 246 

Study  List,  Richardson,     ......  252 

Study  List,  Fielding,      ......  253 


PART  IV 
THE  MODERN  ENGLISH  PERIOD.     SINCE  1750 

CHAPTER  I.    THE  BEGINNING  OP  MODERN  LITERATURE 

Changes  in  Eighteenth  Century  England,         .        .  255 

Samuel  Johnson 264 

The  Characteristics  of  the  New  Literature,       .        .  266 

Summary 280 

Oliver  Goldsmith 282 

Study  List,  Goldsmith, 291 

Edmund  Burke, 292 

Study  List,  Burke, 300 

Robert  Burns, 300 

Study  List,  Burns 307 

William  Wordsworth 308 

Study  List,  Wordsworth, 319 

Coleridge, 324 

Study  List,  Coleridge, 336 

Sir  Walter  Scott 338 

Study  List,  Scott, 345 

Thomas  De  Quincey, 346 

Study  List,  De  Quincey, 356 


XIV  CONTENTS 

MM 

Charles  Lamb,  ........  356 

Study  List,  Lamb,          ......  358 

The  Later  Poets  of  the  Revolution,  .        .        .359 

Byron, 361 

Study  List,  Byron,     .......  369 

Shelley, 369 

Study  List,  Shelley, 377 

Keats, 378 

Study  List,  Keats, 392 

CHAPTER  II.    RECENT  WRITERS.    1830 

Victorian  England 395 

Macaulay, 407 

Carlyle 411 

Ruskiu, 425 

Matthew  Arnold 435 

The  Growth  of  the  Novel, 439 

Dickens, 441 

Thackeray 443 

George  Eliot. 446 

Recent  Poetry, 458 

Tennyson, 462 

Browning 482 

Study  Lists  and  References, 497 


APPENDIX 

Tables  of  Literary  Periods, 507 

INDEX,      .       .  ,    53? 


LIST  OF  PORTEAITS. 


William  Shakespeare, frontispiece 

Geoffrey  Chaucer, 68 

John  Milton,              ,  174 

John  Dryden 194 

Joseph  Addison, 204 

Jonathan  Swift,             226 

Alexander  Pope, 236 

Samuel  Johnson,           .......  264 

Oliver  Goldsmith,             282 

Robert  Burns 300 

Sir  Walter  Scott 338 

Lord  Byron. 360 

Thomas  Carlyle 412 

William  Makepeace  Thackeray,           ....  444 

George  Eliot,             452 

Alfred  Tennyson, 462 

MAPS. 
Norden's  Map  of  London  in  1593,  .        .        .        .112 

Literary  Map  of  England,            688 

xv   - 


AN  INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH 
LITERATURE 

INTRODUCTION 

I— "WHAT  LITEBATUBE  IS 

THE  word  literature  is  used  in  two  distinct  senses : 

(a)  Its  first   and   literal    meaning   is — something 
written,  from  the  Latin,  litera,  a  letter  of  the  alpha- 
bet, an  inscription,  a  writing,  a  manuscript,  a  book, 
etc.     In  this  general  sense  the  literature  of  a  nation 
includes   all   the    books   it    has  produced,   without 
respect  to  subject  or  excellence. 

(b)  By  literature,  in  its  secondary  and  more  re- 
stricted sense,  we  mean  one  especial  kind  of  written 
composition,  the  character  of  which  may  be  indicated 
but  not  strictly  defined.     Works  of  literature,  in  this 
narrower  sense,  aim  to  please,  to  awaken  thought, 
feeling,   or    imagination,   rather    than   to   instruct : 
they  are  addressed  to  no  special  class  of  readers,  and 
they  possess  an  excellence  of  expression  which  en- 
titles them  to  rank  as  works  of  art.     Like  painting, 
music,  or  sculpture,  literature  is  concerned  mainly 
with  feelings,  and,  in  this,  is  distinguished  from  the 
books  of  knowledge,  or  science,  whose  first  object  is 


2  INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

to  teach  facts.*  Much  that  is  literature  in  the 
strictest  sense  does  deal  with  facts,  whether  of  his- 
tory or  of  science,  but  it  uses  these  facts  to  arouse 
the  feelings  or  to  please  the  imagination.  It  takes 
them  out  of  a  special  department  of  knowledge  and 
makes  them  of  universal  interest,  and  it  expresses 
them  in  a  form  of  permanent  beauty  or  value. 
Shakespeare's  historical  plays,  Carlyle's  French 
Revolution,  or  an  essay  of  De  Quincey  or  Macaulay, 
while  they  tell  us  facts,  fulfill  these  conditions,  and 
are  strictly  literature  ;  and,  in  general,  poetry,  his- 
tory, biographies,  novels,  essays,  and  the  like,  may 
be  included  in  this  class.  It  is  in  this  stricter  sense 
that  we  shall  hereafter  use  the  word. 

Literature  is  occupied  chiefly  with  the  great  ele- 
mentary feelings  and  passions  which  are  a  necessary 
part  of  human  nature.  Such  feeling* 
nence  and  as  worship,  love,  hate,  fear,  ambition, 
universality  remorse,  jealousy,  are  common  to  man, 
and,  through  them,  men  separated  by 
education  or  surroundings  are  able  to  sympathize 
with  or  understand  each  other.  Literature,  express- 
ing and  appealing  to  such  feelings,  shares  in  their 
permanence  and  universalitj7.  In  the  poetry  of  the 
Persian  Omar  Khayyam,  of  the  Greek  Anacreon,  of 

* "  To  ascertain  and  communicate  facts  is  the  object  of 
science ;  to  quicken  our  life  into  a  higher  consciousness 
through  the  feelings  is  the  function  of  art." — "  The  Scientific 
Movement  and  Literature,"  in  Studies  in  Literature,  p.  85,  by 
Edward  Dowden.  This  distinction  between  literature  and 
science  was  laid  down  in  a  famous  passage  of  De  Quincey  : 
"  There  is  first,  the  literature  of  knowledge  (i.  e.t  science),  and 


INTRODUCTION  3 

the  Roman  Horace,  and  of  the  English  Robert  Her- 
rick,  we  find  the  same  familiar  mood.  Each  is 
troubled  by  the  pathetic  shortness  of  human  life, 
each  shrinks  from  the  thought  of  death  and  tries  to 
dispel  it  with  the  half-despairing  resolve  to  enjoy 
life  while  it  lasts.  Neither  time  nor  place  prevents 
us  from  entering  into  the  work  of  each  of  these 
poets,  in  many  respects  so  widely  separated,  because 
they  express  alike  a  common  human  feeling,  which 
we  can  understand  through  imagination  or  experi- 
ence. So  tiit-  tE'dijjtiti  at  Colonus  of  Sophocles  and 
the  Kiny  Lear  of  Shakespeare  treat  of  the  same  ele- 
mentary feeling,  the  lov  between  parent  and  child, 
and,  while  that  feeling  lasts,  those  immortal  por- 
trayals of  it  will  be  admired  and  understood. 

Finally,  works  of  literature  have  a  beauty,  power, 
and  individuality  of  expression  which  helps  to  make 

them   both    permanent    and    universal. 

Literary 
Not  only  is  there  a  value  in  the  thought  8tyie.   ' 

or  feelings  contained  in  a  literary  mas- 
terpiece, there  is  a  distinct  and  added  value  in  the 
special  form  in  which  thought  and  feeling  have  been 
embodied.  Each  great  writer  has  his  own  style  or 
manner,  his  characteristic  way  of  addressing  us. 
This  style  is  the  expression  of  his  personal  charac- 

secondly,  the  literature  of  power.  The  function  of  the  first  is 
to  teach  ;  the  function  of  the  second  is  to  move.  The  first  is 
a  rudder,  the  second  an  oar  or  a  sail.  The  first  speaks  to  the 
mere  discursive  understanding  ;  the  second  speaks  ultimately, 
it  imy  happen,  to  the  higher  understanding  or  reason,  but 
always  through  affections  of  pleasure  or  sympathy."  V.  this 
whole  passage  in  the  essay  on  Alexander  Pope, 


4  INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

ter  ;  we  learn  to  know  him  by  it,  as  we  recognize  a 
man  by  his  gait  or  by  the  tones  of  his  voice.  Tkis 
personal  element  is  another  distinguishing  feature  of 
literature,  and  further  separates  it  from  science. 

Through  his  books  a  great  writer  expresses  a  part 
of  his  inner  self.     He  is  impelled  to  give  us,  as  best 
Th     t  d       ^e  can  through  written  words,  the  most 
of  English     that  he  has  gained   by   his   experience, 
literature.      jn    tjie   pOet's    verse   we   read   the   les- 
son   he  has  learned    from    living ;     it  is  warm  and 
alive  for  all  time  with  his  sorrows,  exaltations,  hopes, 
or  despairs.     Literature  is  born  of  life,  and  it  is  in 
this  sense   that    Milton    calls  a    good    book    "  the 
precious  life-blood  of  a  master-spirit  embalmed  and 
treasured  up  on  purpose  to  a  life  beyond  life."* 

Thus  we  learn  to  look  on  the  works  of  each  great 
writer  as  an  actual  part  of  a  human  life,  mysteriously 
preserved  and  communicated  to  us.  But  we  must  go 
farther  and  realize  that  each  nation  as  well  as  each 
individual  has  a  distinct  character  and  a  continuous 
inner  life  ;  that,  in  generation  after  generation,  men 
and  women  have  lived  who  have  embodied  in  litera- 
ture not  their  own  souls  merely,  but  some  deep 
thought  or  feeling  of  their  time  and  nation.  Often 
thousands  feel  dumbly  what  the  great  writer 
alone  is  able  to  express.  Accordingly  literature  is 
not  merely  personal,  but  national.  The  character  of 
a  nation  manifested  through  action  we  commonly 
call  its  history;  the  character  of  a  nation  written 
down  in  its  books,  or  throbbing  in  its  dramas,  songs, 
and  ballads,  we  call  its  literature.  For  more  than 
*  Milton's  Areopagitica. 


INTRODUCTION  5 

twelve  hundred  years  the  English  people  has  been 
revealing  its  life,  and  its  way  of  looking  at  life, 
through  its  books  ;  to  study  English  literature  is, 
therefore,  to  study  one  great  expression  of  the  char- 
acter and  historic  development  of  the  English  race. 

IL-THE  GREAT  DIVISIONS  OF  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 
When  \ve  look  at  this  life  of  the  English  race  as 
expressed  in  literature  through  more  than  twelve 
centuries,  we  find  that  it  possesses  marked  character- 
istics at  certain  periods.  For  centuries  the  mind  of 
England  is  stimulated  and  influenced  by  a  foreign 
civilization.  The  nation  and  its  literature,  like  the 
individual  life,  pass  through  moods  of  faith  and 
passion,  of  frivolity  and  unbelief.  English  literature, 
reflecting  or  expressing  these  varied  influences  or 
changing  moods,  naturally  divides  itself  into  the  fol- 
lowing four  great  periods  of  development : 

1.  The  Period  of  Preparation  ;  670  to  about  1400. 

2.  The  Period  of  Italian  Influence ;  about  1400  to 
1660. 

3.  The  Period  of  French  Influence  ;  1660  to  about 
1750. 

4.  TTie  Jfodern  English  Period /  since  about  1750. 

These  divisions  must  be  broadly  laid  down  at  the 
start,  although  their  meaning  will  become  plainer  as 
we  advance. 

I.— THE  PERIOD  OF  PREPARATION.    FROM  670  TO 
ABOUT  1400 

During  this  period  England  made  for  her  use  a 
national  language.  During  this  time,  also,  the  vari- 


6  INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

ous  races  and  tribes  whose  intermixture  makes  the 
modern  English  became  substantially  one  people. 

In  order  to  have  a  great  national  literature  it  is 
necessary  to  have  a  great  national  language.  Such  a 
language  England  did  not  always  possess.  The 
settlement  of  the  island  by  different  races  or  tribes, 
each  having  a  different  speech  or  dialect,  made  Eng- 
land for  centuries  a  land  of  confusion  of  tongues. 
The  Norman  Conquest  (1066)  brought  for  a  time 
another  element  of  confusion  by  the  introduction  of 
French.  During  the  fourteenth  century  the  language 
spoken  in  and  about  London,  a  form  of  English 
largely  mixed  with  French,  asserted  its  supremacy. 
This  English  became  more  and  more  generally  estab- 
lished, and  from  it  the  language  we  speak  to-day, 
however  enlarged  or  modified,  is  directly  derived. 
The  centuries  during  which  England  was  forming 
her  national  speech  stand  by  themselves  in  the  history 
of  her  literature.  Like  a  child  she  struggles  with 
the  difficulties  of  language.  Some  write  in  one  or 
another  kind  of  English,  some  in  Latin,  some  in 
French.  By  the  end  of  the  fourteenth  century  this 
difficulty  is  conquered;  we  pass  out  of  the  centuries  of 
preparation  into  those  of  greater  literary  expression. 

H.— THE  PERIOD  OF  ITALIAN  INFLUENCE.     FROM 
ABOUT  1400  TO  1660 

Toward  the  end  of  the  fourteenth  century  the 
mind  of  England  began  to  be  greatly  stimulated  and 
directed  by  an  influence  from  without.  England 
began  to  share  in  the  Renaissance,  or  the  awakening 
of  the  mind  of  Europe  to  a  new  culture,  a  fresh 


INTRODUCTION  7 

delight  in  life  and  in  beauty,  a  new  enthusiasm  for 
freedom  in  thought  and  action.  This  great  move- 
ment first  took  shape  in  Italy.  Nation  after  nation 
kindled  with  the  ardor  of  the  new  spirit,  and  England, 
like  the  rest,  drew  from  Italy  knowledge  and  inspira- 
tion. Education  in  England  was  transformed  by 
men  who  learned  in  Florence  or  Bologna  what  they 
taught  at  Oxford  or  at  Cambridge,  until  the  New 
^earning  and  the  new  spirit  found  their  unrivaled 
literary  expression  in  the  reigns  of  Elizabeth  and 
James  (1558-1625). 

III.— THE  PERIOD  OF  FRENCH  INFLUENCE.     FROM 
1660  TO  ABOUT  1750 

After  the  new  thoughts  and  mighty  passions  that 
came  with  the  xtenaissance  had  spent  their  force, 
England  seemed  for  the  time  to  have  grown  tired 
of  great  feelings  either  in  poetry  or  in  religion.  She 
became  scientific,  intellectual,  cold,  and  inclined  to 
attach  undue  importance  to  the  style  or  manner  of 
writing,  thinking  that  great  works  were  produced  by 
study  and  ai't  rather  than  by  the  inspiration  of  genius. 
This  tendency  was  encouraged,  or  perhaps  originated, 
by  the  example  and  influence  of  the  French.  This 
was  during  the  brilliant  reign  of  Louis  XIV.,  when 
such  writers  as  Moliere,  Racine,  Corneille,  and  Boi- 
leau,  were  making  French  literature  and  literary 
standards  fashionable  in  Europe.  Charles  II.  as- 
cended the  throne  in  1660,  after  his  youth  of  exile  on 
the  Continent,  bringing  with  him  a  liking  for  things 
French,  and  for  a  while  some  English  writers  tried 
to  compose  according  to  the  prescription  laid  down 


8  INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

by  Boileau  and  his  followers.  France,  however, 
exerted  no  such  profound  and  lasting  influence  on 
English  literature  and  thought  as  had  been  exercised 
by  Italy  during  the  period  preceding.  The  germi- 
nating power  of  Italian  life  and  culture  reached  far 
beyond  the  confines  of  literature  ;  it  quickened  and 
liberalized  the  very  soul  of  the  English  nation. 
Innumerable  changes  in  architecture,  in  dress,  in 
gardening,  were  but  outward  demonstrations  of  the 
extent  to  which  Italy  had  swayed  England  to  her 
mood.  Beside  such  a  power,  the  succeeding  influence 
of  France  was  both  superficial  and  restricted.  It 
dealt  chiefly  with  style,  the  outward,  technical  side 
of  the  literary  art ;  a  side  in  which  the  French  excel, 
and  which  the  English  genius  is  prone  to  neglect. 

IV.— THE  MODERN  ENGLISH  PERIOD.     SINCE 
ABOUT  1750 

During  this  final  period  England  outgrew  her 
temporary  mood  of  unbelief,  criticism,  and  shallow- 
ness,  and  with  it  her  reliance  on  the  literary  style  of 
France.  She  has  again  expressed  in  her  literature 
new  and  deep  feelings,  a  wider  love  for  mankind  and 
a  belief  in  the  brotherhood  of  all  men  ;  a  new  power 
of  entering  into  the  life  of  nature.  She  has  depended 
little  for  her  inspiration  on  other  nations,  although 
to  some  extent  influenced  by  Germany  and  Italy, 
and  has  produced  literary  works  second  only  to  those 
of  the  Elizabethan  masters. 

These  periods,  considered  in  detail,  form  respect- 
ively the  subjects  of  the  four  parts  into  which  this 
work  is  divided. 


PARTI 
PERIOD  OF  PREPARATION.     670-1400 


CHAPTER  I 

BAOE,  LANGUAGE,  AND  LITERATURE  BETOBE  CHAUOEB 

WHEN  we  examine  the  four  periods  into  which  we 
have   divided  the  history  of  English  literature,  we 
notice   that    the    first,  or    preparatory,   Distinction 
period  is  distinguished  from  the  others   ^!t?reen  -l^e 
in  one  important  particular.     Through-   and  the  three 
out  its  whole  extent,  or  from  about  the  following, 
seventh  to  the  fourteenth  century,  England  has  no 
national  language  ;  no  speech  common  to  all  classes 
of  the  people  and  to   all   sections   of  the   country. 
Even  for  the  service  of  literature  no  one  language  is 
established,  but  many  books  are  written  in  Latin, 
some  in  Norman-French,  and  others  in  different  dia- 
lects of  an   English  which    seems   to   us   almost  as 
strange  as  a  foreign  tongue. 

On  the  other  hand  the  three  remaining  periods, 
while  differing  from  each  other  in  certain  special 
characteristics,  have  at  least  one  great  feature  in 
common — in  them  all  literature  has  one  standard  or 
national  language.  By  the  beginning  of  the  first  of 
these  three  periods,  the  literary  and  national  suprera- 


10          INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

acy  of  one  particular  variety  of  English  was  assured. 
That  variety  has  since  been  the  universal  English 
speech  ;  it  has  remained  unchanged,  except  by  the 
gradual  and  natural  processes  of  growth,  from  the 
time  of  its  first  great  poet-master,  Geoffrey  Chaucer, 
to  the  time  of  Alfred  Tennyson,  its  last. 

But  while  this  broad  distinction  between  the  first 

and   the  three  following  periods  of    our   literature 

c    , .     ..        should  be  grasped,  it  should  not  distract 

of  the  litera-  our  attention  from  the  close  and  vital 

tore.  relations   which   bind    the   preparatory 

centuries  to  the  later  time. 

The  comparative  richness  of  the  literature  since 
Chaucer's  time,  as  well  as  the  remoteness  and  the 
difficulties  of  language  which  beset  us  before  that 
period,  tend  to  make  us  lose  sight  of  the  living  inter- 
est and  meaning  of  the  earlier  era,  and  its  practical 
bearing  on  the  five  succeeding  centuries  of  literary 
t  production.  To  slight  this  formative  period  is  to 
i  begin  our  biography  of  the  nation's  literature  at  its 
middle  age.  Not  only  had  more  than  half  of  the 
entire  mental  life  of  England  been  lived  before 
Chaucer  wrote,  but  for  more  than  seven  hundred  years 
that  life  had  been  struggling,  more  or  less  success- 
fully, to  write  itself  down  in  literature.  There  is  no 
break  between  this  literature  and  that  of  which 
Chaucer  has  often  been  styled  the  father,  and  no 
development  of  the  language  should  prevent  our 
recognizing  that  the  continuity  of  the  literature 
remains  unimpaired.  However  true  or  convenient 
our  division  of  the  literary  history  of  England  into 
set  periods,  it  is  far  more  important  for  us  to  see  that, 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  11 

underlying  all  changes,  the  mental  life  of  England, 
the  literature  of  England,  which  is  its  most  direct 
expression,  even  the  language  of  England,  made  in 
time  the  one  medium  of  that  literature,  have  a  con- 
tinuous life  and  growth  for  more  than  twelve  hun- 
dred years.     In  order  that  we  may  get  some  idea  of 
the  real  unity  running  through  the  whole  story  of  our 
literary  development,  we  must  indicate  some  of  the 
ways  in   which   the  long  period  of    growth  before 
Chaucer  led  up  to  and  prepared  the  way  for  the  crea- 
tion of  the  great  works  which  are  the   _  f 
glories  of   our   English    speech.     Look-  the  prepara- 
ing  at  this  period  in  outline,  we  see  that  tory  period, 
in  it  the  way  was  prepared  for  the  later  literature  : 

1.  By  the  making  of  the  Race. 

The  modern  English  people,  whose  national  char- 
acter  English  literature  interprets  and  expresses,  was 
formed  during  this  time  by  the  mixture  of  different 
race  elements. 

2.  By  the  Literature  before  the  Xorman  Conquest. 

3.  By  the  Norman  Conquest,  with  its  far-reaching 
effects  on  race,  literature,  and  language. 

4.  By  the  making  of  the  Language  out   of  the 
combination  of  different  tongues. 

We  thus  see  that  on  every  side  the  characteristic 
of  this  preparatory  period  was  the  progress  toward 
unity,  by  the  absorption  and  combination  of  separate 
elements.  One  race  is  made  by  the  fusion  of  many  ; 
one  language  by  the  amalgamation  of  French  and 
English  ;  one  literature  out  of  the  literature  of  the 
English,  the  British,  and  the  Norman,  enriched  and 
developed  by  the  learning  and  culture  of  Rome. 


12         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEBATUBB 

I.  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  RACE. 

The  races  which  have  combined  in  different  pro- 
portions to  make  the  modern  English  are  : 

a.  The  English,  or  Anglo-Saxons ;  a  people  be- 
louging  to  the  Teutonic  stock  or  group  of  races. 

b.  The   Jiritons,   from   whom   the  Welsh   are  de- 
scended ;  a  people  belonging  to  the  Celtic  stock. 

c.  The  Danes ;  a  people,  like  the  English,  of  the 
Teutonic-  group. 

d.  The  Normans,  or  Northmen;  a  people  originally 
Teutonic  by  blood,  but  with  some  Celtic  intermixture. 

Thus  we  see  that  representatives  of  two  great 
divisions  of  the  Aryan  people  have  entered  at  various 
times  into  the  composition  of  the  English,  viz.:  the 
Teuton  and  the  Celt.* 

The  English  settlers  of  Britain  were  Low  German 
tribes,  resembling  in  language,  and  to  some  extent 

^    -    ,. ,_      in  character,  their   neighbors  the  Fris- 
The  English. 

lans,  the  modern  Dutch,  to  whom  they 

*  The  following  table  of  the  principal  European  branches  of 
the  Aryan  family  will  make  the  precise  position  of  the  English 
and  Britons  plainer : 

ARYAN 

I 


1 

I                           1 

1 

Eastern 

Clastic             Celtic 

Teutonic.                Scl» 

Branch. 

Group.           Group. 

(Rug 

Hindoo 

Greak       0*0,11,,  j  Irish 
Roman     °^Uo  1  Scotch 

Goths 
Scandinarians 

Cymric  J  Bl^n'  °r 

i  Normans  originally 
were   mainly   from 

I  Gauls 

High  Germans 

Low  Germans 

Frisian  English 

(Dutch)  T 


1  j 

tes    BSJO 


Angle*    Jutes    BSJOSM 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCEB  13 

were  closely  related  by  blood.  Two  of  the  three 
English  tribes,  the  Saxons  and  the  Angles,  came  from 
what  is  now  the  Schleswig-Holstein  provinces  of 
Northern  Germany,  the  country  about  the  mouth  of 
the  river  Elbe,  which  lies  to  the  north  of  Holland. 
The  third  tribe,  the  Jutes,  held  that  peninsula  yet 
farther  northward  which  is  now  part  of  Denmark. 
This  early  home  of  the  English,  with  its  harshness, 
gloom,  and  privations,  was  a  land  to  breed  men. 
Fierce  storms  beat  down  upon  it,  and  often  in  the 
spring  and  autumn  the  sea  swept  over  its  sunken, 
muddy  coasts,  flooding  it  far  inland.  Dismal  cur- 
tains of  fog  settled  over  it ;  its  miles  of  tangled 
forests  were  soaked  and  dripping  with  frequent  rains. 
The  other  home  of  the  English  was  the  sea.  The 
eldest  son  succeeded  to  his  father's  lands  ;  as  soon  as 
the  younger  sons  grew  old  enough  they  took  to  the 
war-ships  to  win  fame  and  plunder  by  slaughter  and 
pillage.  Their  high-prowed  galleys  were  a  menace 
and  a  terror  to  the  richer  coast  settlements  far  south- 
ward, and  prayers  were  regularly  offered  in  some 
churches  for  a  deliverance  from  their  fury.  Swift 
in  pursuit,  quick  and  merciless  in  attack,  they  were 
swift  also  in  flight.  Fair-haired,  blue-eyed  men,  big- 
boned  and  muscu.'ar,  they  combined  an  heroic  fear- 
lessness and  audacity  with  a  savage  bloodthirstiness 
and  greed.  The  healthy  animal  was  yet  strong  in 
them ;  they  were  huge  feeders  and  deep  drinkers. 
Yet  they  were  a  young  race  with  stores  of  unwasted 
vigor;  with  an  immense,  if  brutal,  energy;  with  an 
enormous  and  unspent  capacity  for  life,  for  feeling, 
for  thought,  for  action.  To  understand  them  we 


14         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

must  penetrate  beneath  the  surface  of  riot  and  blood- 
shed to  the  redeeming  and  noble  traits  which  lay,  yet 
undeveloped,  at  the  base  of  the  national  character. 

Beside  the  moral  corruption  of  the  decaying 
Roman  civilization,  their  lives  stood  sound  and  pure. 
While  they  showed  no  tendency  to  romantic  sen- 
timent, women  were  given  a  high  and  honorable 
place  among  them.  The  passion  of  love  may  be 
said  to  have  no  place  in  their  literature.  One  brief 
strain  of  love  is  indeed  heard  in  it,  but  it  is  in  cele- 
bration of  the  assured  and  domestic  affection  of  the 
wife,  not  of  the  ecstasy  of  a  youthful  sentiment.  It 
is  the  poem  of  the  English  fireside. 

"  Dear  the  welcomed  one 

To  the  Frisian  wife,  when  the  Floater 's  drawn  on  shore, 
When  his  keel  comes  back,  and  her  churl  returns  to  home. 
Hers,  her  own  food-giver.     And  she  prays  him  in, 
Washes  then  his  weedy  coat,  and  new  weeds  puts  on  him. 
Oh,  lythe  *  it  is  on  land  to  him,  whom  his  love  constrains."  f 

We  find,  too,  in  the  early  English,  that  instinct 
for  law  and  freedom  which  in  the  coming  genera- 
tions was  to  build  parliaments  and  create  republics. 
They  had  no  less  that  splendid  seriousness,  that 
reverence  for  life  and  death,  that  profoundly  re- 
ligious spirit  which  animates  and  inspires  the 
greatest  productions  of  English  literature.  In  spite 
of  all  their  delight  in  the  joy  of  battle,  in  spite  of 
their  feasting  and  drunken  revelry,  there  runs 

*  Lythe,  pleasant,  soft. 

f  Stopford  Brooke's  translation  in  History  of  Early  Engliih 
Literature. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  15 

through  their  poetry  the  persistent  undertone  of  a 
settled  melancholy.  They  look  death  steadily  in  the 
face  as  "  the  necessary  end"  ;  they  are  continually 
impressed  by  the  sense  of  the  power  of  fate  against 

which  the  weapons  of  the  warriors  are  idle, 
t 

"  One  shall  sharp  hunger  slay  ; 

One  shall  the  storms  beat  down  ; 

One  shall  be  destroyed  by  darts ; 

One  die  in  war  ; 

One  shall  live  losing 

The  light  of  his  eyes, 

Feel  blindly  with  fingers ; 

And  one,  lame  of  foot, 

With  sinew-wound  wearily 

Wasteth  away, 

Musing  and  mourning 

With  death  in  his  mind."  * 

Again  and  again  the  same  haunting  thought  recurs, 
put  forth  with  no  outburst  of  complaint,  but  with  a 
stoical  and  unflinching  acceptance. 

"  All  the  realm  of  earth  is  full  of  hardship, 
The  world  'neath  Heaven  is  turned  by  Fate's  decree."  -j 

In  another  poem  we  are  forced  to  descend  into  the 
very  grave  and  watcli  the  dust  return  to  dust.J 

Yet  this  haunting  sense  of  the  shortness  of  life  did 
not  produce  in  the  early  English  the  determination 
to  enjoy  to-day.  Living  in  the  rush  of  battle  and 

*  "The  Fortunes  of  Man."  Morley's  translation,  English, 
Writers,  vol.  ii.  p.  33. 

f  The  Wanderer.  See  preface  to  Cynewulf's  Christ,  Golianc^ 
translation. 

J  Tli*  Grave,  a  characteristic  poem.     See  Study  List,  p.  47 


16         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

tempest,  it  rather  stimulated  them  to  quit  themselves 
as  heroes.  The  English  conscience  speaks  in  such 
lines  as  these : 

"  This  is  best  laud  from  the  living 
In  last  words  spoken  about  him  : 
He  worked  ere  he  went  his  way, 
When  on  earth,  against  wiles  of  the  foe, 
With  brave  deeds  overcoming  the  devil."* 

In  these  early  English  we  recognize  those  great  traits 
of  mind  and  character  which  have  continued  to  ani- 
mate the  race  ;  traits  which  in  the  centuries  to  come 
were  to  take  shape  in  the  deeds  of  heroes  and  the 
songs  of  poets.  In  these  half-savage  pirate  tribes, 
with  their  deep  northern  melancholy,  is  the  germ  of 
that  masterful  and  aggressive  nation  which  was  to 
put  a  girdle  of  English  round  the  world.  Of  their 
blood  are  the  sea-dogs  who  chased  the  towering  gal- 
leons of  the  Spanish  Armada,  the  six  hundred  who 
charged  to  death  at  Balaclava,  or  those  other  Eng- 
lish, our  own  forefathers,  who  declared  and  main- 
tained their  inheritance  of  freedom.  The  spirit  of 
this  older  England,  enriched  by  time,  is  alive,  too,  in 
the  words  of  Shakespeare,  of  Milton,  and  of  Brown- 
ing, as  it  is  in  the  deeds  of  Raleigh,  of  Chatham,  and 
of  Gordon. 

When  the  English  began  to  settle  in  Britain,  about 
the  middle  of  the  fifth  century,  the  island  was  occu- 
pied by  tribes  of  a  people  called  Celts. 
The  Celts.      I 

In  early   times   this  race  held   a  great 

part  of  Western  Europe  as  well  as  the  British  Isles, 

*"  The  Seafarer."     Morley's   translation,  English  Writers, 
vol.  ii.  p.  24. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  17 

until  conquered  or  pushed  aside  by  the  Teutonic 
races,  the  group  to  which  the  English  belong.  Scot- 
land and  Ireland  were  occupied  by  one  great  division 
of  the  Celts,  the  Gaels,  and  what  is  now  England  by 
another,  the  Cyrari,  or,  as  we  commonly  call  them, 
the  Britons.  The  Celts  were  a  very  different  race 
from  the  Teutons,  and  the  Britons  were  as  thoroughly 
Celtic  in  their  disposition  as  the  English  were 
Teutonic.  For  more  than  fourteen  hundred  years 
Celt  and  Teuton  have  dwelt  together  in  England, 
for  while  the  Britons  were  driven  westward  by  the 
English,  they  were  far  from  being  exterminated,  and 
in  certain  sections  these  two  races  have  blended  into 
one.  This  mixture  of  the  races  has  been  greatest  in 
the  north  and  west ;  for  instance,  in  such  counties 
as  Devon,  Somerset,  Warwick,  and  Cumberland. 
From  the  mixed  race  thus  formed,  a  race  which  com- 
bined the  genius  of  two  dissimilar  and  gifted  peoples, 
many  of  the  greatest  poets  of  England  have  sprung. 
Indeed  it  may  be  truly  said,  that  English  literature 
is  the  expression  and  outcome,  not  of  the  English 
race  and  character  alone,  but  of  that  character  modi- 
fied  and  enriched  by  the  Celt.  Not  only  has  the 
Celtic  blood  thus  mingled  with  the  English.  Celtic 
poetry  and  legend  have  furnished  subject  and  inspira- 
tion to  English  writers  down  to  our  own  day.  It  is, 
therefore,  important  for  us  to  gain  some  notion  of 
the  Celtic  as  well  as  of  the  early  English  spirit,  for 
in  the  literature  of  England  we  recognize  the  pres- 
ence of  both. 

The  Britons,  like  the  English,  were  a   huge  and 
powerful  race  ;  they  had  fierce  gray  or  bluish  eyes. 


18 

and  light  or  reddish  hair.  Wild  as  they  seemed  be- 
fore they  lost  their  native  vigor  under 
the  Roman  rule,  they  had  a  natural  vein 
of  poetry  and  sentiment  more  pathetic  and  delicate 
than  the  somewhat  prosaic  and  stolid  English.  They 
were  quick-witted,  unstable,  lacking  the  English 
capacity  for  dogged  and  persistent  effort,  easily 
depressed  and  easily  exalted,  quickly  sensitive  to 
romance,  to  beauty,  to  sadness.  Beside  the  stern 
and  massive  literature  of  the  early  English,  with  its 
dark  background  of  storm  and  forest,  with  its  resolu- 
tion and  its  fatalism,  with  the  icy  solitude  of  its 
northern  ocean,  stands  that  of  the  Celt,  bright  as 
fairy-land  with  gorgeous  colors  and  the  gleam  of 
gold  and  precious  stones,  astir  with  the  quick  play 
of  fancy,  enlivened  by  an  un-English  vivacity  and 
humor,  and  touched  by  an  exquisite  pathos.  Here  is 
the  description  from  one  of  the  Celtic  romances  of  a 
young  knight  going  out  to  seek  his  fortune  : 

"  And  the  youth  pricked  forth  upon  a  steed  with  head  dap- 
pled gray,  of  four  winters  old,  firm  of  limb,  with  shell-formed 
hoofs,  having  a  bridle  of  linked  gold  on  his  head,  and  on  him 
a  saddle  of  costly  gold.  And  in  the  youth's  hand  were  two 
spears  of  silver,  sharp,  well-tempered,  headed  with  steel,  three 
ells  in  length,  of  an  edge  to  wound  the  wind  and  cause  blood 
to  flow,  and  swifter  than  the  fall  of  the  dewdrop  from  the 
blade  of  reed  grass  upon  the  earth  when  the  dew  of  June  is  at 
the  heaviest.  A  gold-hilted  sword  was  upon  his  thigh,  the 
blade  of  which  was  of  gold,  bearing  a  cross  of  inlaid  gold  of 
the  hue  of  the  lightning  of  heaven  ;  his  war  horn  was  of 
ivory.  Before  him  were  two  brindled,  white-breasted  grey- 
hounds, having  strong  collars  of  rubies  about  their  necks, 
reaching  from  the  shoulder  to  the  ear.  And  the  one  that  was 


LITERATURE  BEFORE   CHAUCER  19 

on  the  left  side  bounded  across  to  the  right  side,  and  the 
one  on  the  right  to  the  left,  and  like  two  sea  swallows 
sported  round  him. 

And  the  blade  of  grass  bent  not  beneath  him,  so  light  was 
his  step  as  he  journeyed  toward  the  gate  of  Arthur's  palace."* 

The  familiar  figure  of  the  young  man  going  forth 
to  conquer  the  world  in  the  strength  of  his  youth,  is 
here  emblazoned  with  all  the  glowing  colors,  the 
delicate  fancy  of  the  Celtic  genius. 

Or  take  the  following  as  an  illustration  of  the 
Celtic  sentiment  and  Celtic  love  of  nature  : 

"  The  maiden  was  clothed  in  a  robe  of  flame-colored  silk, 
and  about  her  neck  was  a  collar  of  ruddy  gold,  on  which  were 
precious  emeralds  and  rubies.  More  yellow  was  her  head  than 
the  flower  of  the  broom,  and  her  skin  was  whiter  than  the 
foam  of  the  wave,  and  fairer  were  her  hands  and  her  fingers 
than  the  blossoms  of  the  wood  anemone  amidst  the  spray  of 
the  meadow  fountain.  The  eye  of  the  trained  hawk,  the 
glance  of  the  three-mewed  falcon,  was  not  brighter  than 
hers.  "Whoso  beheld  her  was  filled  with  her  love;  four 
white  trefoils  sprung  up  where'er  she  trod."  f 

And  finally,  as  an  example  of  the  Celtic  humor, 
add  the  picture  of  another  maiden  as  a  study  of  the 
grotesque  : 

"And  thereupon  they  saw  a  black  curly-headed  maiden 
enter,  riding  upon  a  yellow  mule,  with  jagged  thongs  in  her 
hand  to  urge  it  on,  and  having  a  rough  and  hideous  aspect. 
Blacker  were  her  face  and  her  hands  than  the  blackest  iron 
covered  with  pitch,  and  her  hue  was  not  more  frightful  than 

*  "  Kilhwch  and  Olwen,"  Guest's  Mabinogion,  p.  219 
f  Ibid.,  p.  233. 


20         INTBODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEKATURE 

her  form.  High  cheeks  had  she  and  a  face  lengthened  down 
•ward  and  a  short  nose  with  distended  nostrils.  And  one  eye 
was  of  a  piercing  mottled  gray,  and  the  other  was  black  as 
jet,  deep  sunk  in  her  head.  And  ker  teeth  were  long  and 
yellow,  more  yellow  were  they  than  the  flower  of  the 
broom  .  .  .  and  her  figure  was  very  thin  and  spare  except 
her  feet,  which  were  of  huge  size."  * 

While  the  early  English  had  certain  great  traits 
of  character  which  were  lacking  in  the  Celt — the 
genius  for  governing,  steadfastness,  earnestness — the 
Celt  was  strong  where  the  English  were  deficient. 
The  mingling  of  these  races,  therefore,  during  the 
long  period  before  the  outburst  of  literature  in  the 
fourteenth  century,  was  an  important  element  in  the 
unconscious  preparation  for  the  latter  time.  We 
can  better  understand  this  by  remembering  that 
William  Shakespeare,  the  greatest  genius  of  the 
modern  worldy  was  born  in  a  district  where  the  mix- 
ture of  these  two  races  was  especially  great,  and 
that  by  inheritance,  as  by  the  quality  of  his  genius, 
we  may  think  of  him  as  the  highest  example  of  this 
union  of  Celt  and  Teuton.  "It  is  not  without 
significance  that  the  highest  type  of  the  race,  the 
one  Englishman  who  has  combined  in  the  largest 
measure  the  mobility  and  fancy  of  the  Celt  with  the 
depth  and  energy  of  the  Teutonic  temper,  was  born 
on  the  old  Welsh  and  English  border-land  in  the 
forest  of  Arden."  f 

*  "  Story  of  Peredur,"  Mdbinogion,  Guest's  edition,  114 
f  J.  R.  Green,  quoted  in  article  on  "  Shakespeare,"  Encyclo- 
pedia Britannica,  ninth  edition,  by  Prof.  T.  Spencer  Baynes, 
which  consult  on  this  subject. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  21 

IL    LITERATURE  BEFORE  THE  NORMAN 
CONQUEST 

To  this  preparation  by  the  making  of  the  race 
must  be  added  the  expanding  and  deepening  of  the 
English  nature,  which,  taught  by  experience,  refined 
and  spiritualized  by  Christianity  and  by  Latin  cul- 
ture, labored  to  embody  its  widening  ideas  of  life  in 
some  literary  form.  To  realize  the  part  played  by 
Christianity  in  the  development  of  English  literature 
we  must  go  back  to  the  preceding  centuries  of 
heathenism. 

Like  the  early  Greeks  and  other  primitive  races, 
the  English  had  created  a  body  of  poetry  and  myth 
long  before  they  were  able  to  give  it  a   j.arl_  En_ 
written  form.      Their  imagination   had  lish  heathen- 
peopled    the    world    about   them   with  ism' 
indwelling  powers  ;  the  giant  of  the  forest,  the  dwarf 
of  the  mine,  Nicor  the   water-sprite,   whose   name 
survives  in  the  nixies  of  popular  song  and  legend. 

Their  religion  seems  to  have  been  that  of  the 
Scandinavian,  impressive  in  its  vast  and  rough-hewn 
majesty.  Crude,  gigantic  shapes  loom  up  through 
this  Teutonic  mythology  as  through  a  cloud  : 
Woden,  the  father  of  the  gods ;  Thor,  with  h>*» 
mighty  hammer,  the  god  of  thunder  and  of  ter*» 
pest ;  Saxneat,  the  god  of  war  ;  and  Tiw,  the  sword 
god,  a  fierce  and  terrible  power  whom  none  could 
encounter  and  live.  Among  these  are  gentler 
divinities,  often  personifying  the  creative  and  benef- 
icent forces  of  nature  arrayed  against  the  destruc- 
tive and  warring  powers  of  cold,  darkness,  and  storm  ; 
Frea,  the  divinity  of  joy,  warmth,  and  harvests  ;  the 


22          INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

radiant  and  gracious  Balder,  the  sun  god  ;  Eostre,  the 
remnant  of  a  yet  earlier  mythology,  the  shining 
goddess  of  springtime  and  dawn,  from  whose  name 
our  Easter  is  taken.  Back  of  all  these  is  Wyrd, 
Destiny,  including  in  one  person  the  three  attributes 
Past,  Present,  and  Future,  embodiment  of  that 
ingrained  northern  fatalism  which  has  been  already 
spoken  of  as  a  primary  English  trait.*  Beowulf,  the 
hero  of  our  oldest  English  epic,  is  true  to  the  spirit 
of  his  race,  when  he  cries  before  his  last  fight,  "  To 
us  it  shall  be  as  our  Wyrd  betides,  that  Wyrd  is 
every  man's  lord."f 

Side  by  side  with  these  early  myths  and  popular 
fancies  was  poetry,  here,  as  among  other  primitive 
races,  the  handmaid  of  religion  and  of  history.  It 
is  to  poetry  that  the  great  races  turn  in  their  child- 
hood by  a  deep  universal  instinct,  when  they  would 
give  vent  to  their  primal  passions — joy,  suffering,  or 
the  lust  of  battle.  We  may  picture  the  English,  like 
their  German  kindred,  working  themselves  up  to  a 
frenzied  joy  in  slaughter  before  rushing  into  action, 
by  chanting  wild  and  discordant  hymns  to  the  god 
of  battles.^ 

*  In  the  Scandinavian  mythology  these  three  attributes  of 
Fate  were  separate  persons.  Urd  (hence  the  English  Wyrd), 
the  Past,  Werdaudi,  the  Present,  and  Skuld,  the  Future. 
These  three  Fatal  Sisters  wove  the  web  of  human  destiny. 
Gray's  poem,  The  Fatal  Sisters,  may  be  read  in  class. 
Discuss  also  possible  connection  of  the  Nornes  with  the  weird 
sisters  or  witches  of  Macbeth,  for  which  see  Academy 
(February  8,  1879) ;  Dyer's  Folk  Lore  of  Shakespeare,  p.  27. 

f  Beowulf,  1.  2525. 

$  "  A  peculiar  kind  of  verses  is  also  current  among  them,  by 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  23 

In  the  midst  of  this  turbulent,  pitiless  world  of 
the  early  English,  with  its  plundering,  wasting,  and 

burnings,  stands  the  figure  of  the  poet. 

.     The  Scop. 
He  is  the  scop,*  the  maker  or  shaper  of 

song ;  perhaps  the  servant  of  some  great  household, 
perhaps  a  wandering  singer,  a  welcome  guest  at 
feasts.  Enter  in  imagination  one  of  the  great  halls 
on  a  night  of  feasting,  if  you  would  know  what  the 
scop  was  in  that  rude  society.  At  one  end  sits  the 
king,  on  a  high  platform  ;  fires  are  blazing  on  the 
stone  flagging  along  the  center,  lighting  up  the  gold- 
woven  tapestries,  and  glittering  on  helmet  and 
buckler  hanging  on  the  walls.  At  the  two  tables 
which  run  lengthwise  of  the  hall  sit  the  warriors, 
eating  boar's  flesh  and  venison,  and  in  the  midst, 
while  a  thegn  carries  round  the  drinking  cups  of  ale 

the  recital  of  which,  termed  '  barding,'  they  stimulate  their 
courage,  while  the  sound  itself  serves  as  an  augury  of  the 
event  of  the  impending  combat.  For,  according  to  the  nature 
of  the  cry  proceeding  from  the  line,  terror  is  inspired  or  felt ; 
nor  does  it  seem  so  much  an  articulate  song  as  the  wild 
chorus  of  valor.  A  harsh,  piercing  note,  and  a  broken  roar 
are  their  favorite  tones,  which  they  render  more  full  and 
sonorous  by  applying  their  mouths  to  their  shields." — Tacitus, 
Oermania,  ch.  3,  Oxford  translation. 

*  Scop,  from  A.  S.  scieppan,  to  make  or  create ;  creation 
being  generally  recognized  as  the  supreme  faculty  of  the 
poet  ;  v.  note  on  trouvere,  p.  104.  Among  the  early  English 
the  gleeman  occupied  an  inferior  place,  as  the  singer,  rather 
than  the  composer,  of  verses.  Gomenwudu  and  gleobeam  were 
the  names  of  the  harp  ;  gleoman,  or  gleeman,  of  the  harper. 
The.  gleeman  also  performed  juggling  or  acrobatic  feats  in 
very  early  times.  The  relative  position  of  scop  and  gleeman 
correspond  somewhat  to  that  of  trouvere  and  jongleur. 


S4         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEBATUKE 

and  mead,  the  gleeman  sings  of  the  deeds  of  heroes, 
marking  the  beats  of  his  rude  chanting  by  chords 
struck  upon  the  harp.  By  his  life,  given  to  song,  he 
stands  apart  from  all  the  rest ;  the  special  represent- 
ative of  mind  in  the  midst  of  brute  force,  the  fore- 
runner of  that  great  world  power  we  call  literature. 
But  the  scop,  or  gleeman,  was  not  the  only  singer  at 
feasts  ;  often  the  harp  was  passed  from  hand  to  hand, 
and  king  and  thegn  sang  in  turn,  or  some  hoary  war- 
rior told  of  the  battles  of  his  youth.*  Thus  in  battle- 
hymn  or  dirge,  in  hero  songs,  ia  gnomic  or  proverbial 
verses,  we  find  the  half-fcrgotten  beginnings  of 
English  literature.  Songa  were  common  property. 
Passed  on  from  one  singer  to  another,  altered  or 
enlarged  at  pleasure,  they  grew  by  frequent  repeti- 
tion, while  their  origin  atid  the  name  of  the  poet  who 
first  sung  them  was  often  uncared  for  and  unknown. 

Two  very  early  poems,  perhaps  of  continental 
origin,  Widsith,  or  the  Far  Wanderer,  and  the 
Complaint  of  Deor,\  deal  with  the  life  and  for* 
tunes  of  the  scop. 

The  first  of  these  has  little  poetic  merit,  but 
deserves  mention  as  containing  passages  thought  to 

be  the  earliest  remaining  specimens   oj 
Widsith "  .     . 

Anglo-Saxon   verse.      Widsith,   a  scop, 

enumerates  the  various  courts  at  which  he  has  been 
received  in  his  wandering  singer's  life,  and  tells  of 
the  rich  gifts  that  have  been  given  him  for  his  songs, 
He  seems  to  have  been  popular,  as  he  shows  us  only 

*  Beowulf,  1.   496  ;    «.   also  Bede's  Ecclesiastical   History, 
story  of  Csedmon. 
t  Translated  by  E.  H.  Hickey  in  the  Academy,  May  34,  1881. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE   CHACCER  25 

the  bright  side  of  the  poet's  life,  dwelling  on  the 
liberality  of  his  hearers  and  the  widespread  appre- 
ciation of  song.  The  Complaint  of  Deor,  on  the 
other  hand,  brings  before  us  the  scop  in  misfortune. 
Deor  was  not  an  itinerant  singer  ;  he  belonged  to  a 
special  household  and  was  dear  to  his  lord,  until  dis- 
placed by  a  rival  whose  songs  found  greater  favor. 
Deor  tries  to  reconcile  himself  to  this  by  calling  to 
mind  the  many  wise  and  good  who  have  endured 
sorro\v. 

We  should  gain  nothing  by  a  mere  enumeration  of 
other  minor  poems  of  this  period.  It  is  enough  to 
say  here  that  they  deserve  to  be  read  by  every 
serious  student  of  our  literature,  if  only  for  one 
reason  :  They  come  into  the  midst  of  our  nineteenth 
century  from  a  world  that  lies  buried  under  the  dust 
and  tramplings  of  twelve  centuries.  Read  with  that 
deep  human  sympathy  by  which  alone  we  can  truly 
decipher  the  records  of  any  past,  we  can  find,  beneath 
all  that  overlays  it,  the  breath  of  life. 

Among  these  early  poems,  Penwulfj  the  oldest 
epic  of  any  Germanic  people,  containing  over  three 

thousand  lines,*  stands  alone  in  ma^ni- 

,-,,  f    i  Beowulf." 

tude  and  importance,      ilie  scene  ot  the 

poem  is  laid  on  the  continent,  probably  in  Denmark. 
The  date  of  its  composition  is  doubtful,  but  scholars 
have  shown,  from  certain  historical  allusions,  that  the 

*  According  to  the  former  manner  of  printing  it,  Beowulf 
contained  over  six  thousand  lines  (dr.  6365).  The  poem,  which 
is  in  the  usual  Anglo-Saxon  meter,  is  written  in  half-lines, 
each  having  two  strongly-mnrked  accents.  These  half-lines 
being  formerly  printed  as  separate  lines,  the  number  of  lines 
was  apparently  doubled. 


26          INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

events  related  must  have  taken  place  between  the 
early  part  of  the  sixth  and  the  middle  of  the  eighth 
century.*  Its  author  is  unknown.  Beowulf  may 
have  originated  on  the  continent  shortly  before  the 
English  invasion  of  Britain  ;  and,  carried  from  thence 
to  England,  have  grown  gradually  by  oral  repetition 
until  some  Christian  singer,  perhaps  a  Northumbrian 
monk  of  the  eighth  century,  gave  it  final  form.  The 
note  of  the  poem  is  strife.  Not  the  onset  of  armies, 
nor  the  wrestling  against  flesh  and  blood,  but  the 
single-handed  struggle  of  Beowulf  with  three  mon- 
strous and  mysterious  incarnations  of  the  powers  of 
evil.  Around  these  three  combats  of  Beowulf  the 
action  of  the  poem  centers.  Hrothgar,  a  Danish 
king,  builds  for  himself  a  splendid  mead-hall,  Heorot, 
wherein  he  sits  feasting  with  his  thegns.  A  fiendish 
monster,  Grendel,  lurking  in  the  dark  marshes  with- 
out, is  tortured  by  the  sounds  of  minstrelsy  that 
reach  him  from  the  hall.  In  jealous  hate  he  enters 
Heorot  by  night  and  slays  thirty  sleeping  com- 
panions of  the  king.  Again  and  again  he  comes  to 
destroy,  until  the  splendid  hall  has  to  be  forsaken. 
After  twelve  years  Beowulf,  a  prince  of  the  Geats,  or 
Goths,  endowed  with  the  strength  of  thirty  men, 
comes  with  his  followers  in  a  ship  to  rid  Hrothgar  of 
this  scourge.  He  is  made  welcome,  and  that  night 
he  and  his  band  occupy  the  hall.  All  are  asleep  save 
Beowulf,  when  Grendel  strides  into  the  hall,  his  eyes 
glowing  like  flames.  He  snatches  a  warrior,  rends 
him  to  pieces,  and  greedily  devours  him.  Then  he 
attacks  Beowulf  and  they  close  in  deadly  grapple,  the 
*  I.  e.,  not  earlier  than  511-512  A.  D.,  nor  later  than  752  A.  D 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCEB  27 

hero  using  no  weapon,  but  trusting  solely  in  his 
mighty  strength.  The  stanch  hall  trembles  with 
the  fierceness  of  the  contest ;  the  massive  benches 
are  splintered,  the  Danes  stand  around,  panic- 
stricken.  Then  Grendel,  howling,  f  trives  to  escape, 
but  Beowulf  crushes  him  with  his  terrible  hand-grip. 
At  length  the  demon,  with  the  loss  of  an  arm, 
wrenches  himself  free,  and  flies  to  the  fens  to  die. 
On  the  morrow  all  crowd  round  Beowulf  rejoicing, 
but  the  next  night  Grendel's  mother  comes  to  avenge 
her  son,  and  carries  off  one  of  the  thegns.  Beowulf 
resolves  to  conquer  this  new  foe.  With  his  thegns 
he  tracks  the  woman  fiend  over  murky  moors,  through 
rocky  gorges,  and  by  the  haunts  of  the  water  nixies, 
until  he  comes  upon  a  stagnant  popl,  frothing  with 
blood  and  overhung  by  gloomy  trees.  By  night  the 
waters  are  livid  with  flame.  The  deer,  pursued  by 
dogs,  will  die  on  the  bank  rather  than  tempt  those 
unsounded  depths.  It  is  a  place  of  terror.  Beowulf 
plunges  in  and  fights  the  water  fiend  in  her  cave 
under  the  flood.  His  sword  proves  useless  against 
her.  Again  he  trusts  to  sheer  strength.  "So  it 
behoves  a  man  to  act  when  he  thinks  to  attain  endur- 
ing praise; — he  will  not  be  caring  for  his  life."* 
Beowulf  falls,  and  the  fiend  is  above  him,  her  knife 
drawn.  Then  the  hero  snatches  from  a  pile  of  arms 
a  mighty  sword,  giant-forged,  and  slays  his  adver- 
sary. Again  there  is  mirth  and  praise  at  Heorot. 

In  the  last  part  of  the  poem  Beowulf  has  become 
King  of  the  Goths  and  has  ruled  over  them  for  fifty 
winters.     At  this  time  the    land    is  worried   by  a 
*  Beowulf,  p.  50,  Earle's  translation. 


28         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

dragon,  who  sets  men's  homes  aflame  with  his  fiery 
breath.  The  dragon's  lair  is  near  a  wild  headland 
at  whose  front  the  sea  breaks  ;  here  Beowulf  seeks 
him  and  gives  battle,  trusting  "  in  the  strength  of 
his  single  manhood."  The  old  king  is  again  victori- 
ous, but  is  mortally  hurt.  He  bids  a  follower  bring 
out  the  dragon's  treasure  hoard,  and  as  the  glisten- 
ing gold  and  jewels  are  spread  on  the  grass,  he  gives 
thanks  that  he  has  won  them  for  his  people.  So 
Beowulf  dies,  and  a  lofty  mound  is  raised  in  his 
honor  on  the  high  cliff,  which  sailors,  in  voyaging 
upon  the  deep,  could  behold  from  far.  The  poem 
ends  in  a  requiem  of  praise  : 

"  Lamented  thus 
The  loyal  Goths, 
Their  chieftain's  fall. 
Hearth -fellows  true  ; — 
They  said  he  was, 
Of  all  kings  in  the  world. 
Mildest  to  his  men 
And  most  friendly, 
To  his  lieges  benignest, 
And  most  bent  upon  glory."* 

Something  of  the  poem's  spirit  makes  itself  felt 

even   through   this    meager    summary.     We    catch 

something   of  its  profound  earnestness, 

Spirit  of  the   jtg   gioon3j  its   8jmple-minded  intensity. 

Beowulf,  the  one  central  figure,  moves 

before  us  in  heroic  proportions.     In  his  courtesy,  his 

vast  strength,  his  quiet  courage,  his  self-reliance,  his 

submission  to  fate,  he  may  stand  as  the  pattern  of  the 

early  English  ideal  of  manhood,  as  Achilles  of  the 

*  Earle's  translation.    Introduction,  Ixxiii. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  29 

early  Greek.  The  story  is  relieved  by  few  gentler 
touches.  As  a  background  to  this  life  of  conflict, 
nature  rises  before  us,  harsh,  somber,  pitiless,  alive 
with  superstitious  terrors,  dreary  amid  the  remoteness 
and  savagery  of  the  northern  solitudes.  The  pre- 
vailing gloom  is  unbroken  by  color,  or  laughter,  or 
the  gracious  happiness  of  lovers.  The  lighted  mead- 
hall,  indeed,  echoes  with  song  and  cheer,  but  about 
it  lie  the  black  wastes,  the  haunt  of  demons.  Such 
a  tone  suits  best  with  the  unflinching  courage,  the 
uncompromising  morality,  which  thrill  through  the 
poem.  Life  may  not  be  a  pleasant  thing  ;  it  may  be 
made  a  noble  thing.  "  He  who  has  the  chance  should 
work  mighty  deeds  before  he  die  ;  that  is  for  a 
mighty  man  the  best  memorial."*  The  ideal  em- 
bodied in  the  life  of  this  early  English  hero  antici- 
pates by  a  thousand  years  the  spirit  of  the  noble 
precept  of  the  great  Puritan  : 

"  Nor  love  thy  life,  nor  hate  ;  but  what  thou  liv'st, 
Live  well ;  how  long  or  short  permit  to  Heaven."  f 

Courage,  fortitude,  self-sacrifice,  these  things  are 
preferred  to  the  pleasures  of  the  senses,  even  to  life 
itself.  Even  in  these  bitter  times  of  robbery  and 
murder,  the  English  nature  could  at  least  perceive,  in 
all  its  difficult  austerity,  a  fundamental  principle  of 
all  noble  living.  Such  stuff  was  there  in  the  English 
even  while  they  were  yet  heathen. 

For  we  are  to  remember  that,  notwithstanding  some 
Christian  passages  of  a  later  date,  these  earliest  poems 

*  Beowulf,  11.  1387-1390. 

f  Paradite  Lott,  bk.  xi.  1.  553. 


30         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

are   essentially  the  utterance   of  a  heathen   people. 

.      These  barbarians,  too,  faced  nature,  and 

iie?.tnen    ele-  . 

ment  in  early  life,  and  death,  wondenngly  but  fearless- 
poeaj».  jy^  tne  oi£  questions  of  humanity  deep  in 

their  hearts.  Reading  their  poems,  we  can  under- 
stand how  that  heathen  Earldorman  of  Northumbria 
came  to  liken  man's  life  to  a  sparrow,  coming  from 
the  blank  darkness  which  walls  us  in  to  tarry  but  for 
a  little  in  the  warmth  of  a  lighted  hall,  and  then 
vanish  again  into  the  darkness  and  be  lost.* 

In  characters  so  strong  and  serious  Christianity 
became  a  vital  force,  directing  the  currents  not  only 
of  life,  but  of  thought  and  of  literature.  Accord- 
ingly the  bringing  of  this  heathen  England  within 
the  circle  of  Christendom  makes  an  epoch  in  the  his- 
tory of  English  literature. 

For  a  century  and  a  half  after  the  first  English 
occupation,  Britain  lay  a  wedge  of  heathendom  be- 
tween Christian  Europe  and  Christian 

Conversion  of  ireiand.     The  civilization  and  culture  of 
the  English. 

Europe  were  mainly  Roman  ;  the  guard- 
ian of  this  culture  was  the  Church.  To  be  heathen 
was,  therefore,  to  be  cut  off  from  the  main  source  of 
education,  to  be  shut  out  from  the  intellectual  life  of 
the  time.  During  the  sixth  and  seventh  centuries 
light  streamed  into  this  darkened  Britain  from  the 
east  and  from  the  west.  In  597  St.  Augustine 
planted  the  Church  in  Kent,  the  interrupted  commu- 
nication between  Rome  and  Britain  was  re-estab- 

*Bede's  Ecclesiastical  History,  bk.  ii.  chap,  xiii.,  or  Green's 
English  People,  vol.  i.  p.  46.  V.  also  Wordsworth's  render- 
ing  of  this,  Ecclesiastical  Sonnets,  part  I.  son.  xvi 


LITER ATUEE   BEFOEE  CHAUCER  31 

lished,  and  Canterbury  became  the  first  great  center 
in  England  of  Latin  learning  and  influence. 

While  the  Roman  Church  in  Kent  strove  with  but 
little  lasting  success  to  win  the  remoter  English  king- 
doms to  the  faith,  the  impassioned  zeal  of  Irish  mis- 
sionaries wrought  in  the  north  what  the  followers  of 
St.  Augustine  had  failed  to  accomplish.  Aidan,  the 
first  of  these,  came  into  Northumbria  from  the  Irish 
mission  station  at  lona  (635).  English  paganism 
gave  way  before  Celtic  enthusiasm  and  devotion,  and 
the  tide  01  Irish  Christianity  spread  slowly  south- 
ward. While  the  light  was  thus  shining  from  the 
west,  three  men  landed  in  Britain  (668),  bringing 
from  the  far  east  a  culture  higher  than  any  the  Eng- 
lish had  yet  known.  These  were  Theodore  of  Tarsus, 
(602-670),  who  had  studied  Greek  at  Athens  ;  Bene- 
dict Biscop  or  Baducing  (dr.  628-670),  a  North- 
umbrian of  noble  birth,  returning  from  his  second 
journey  to  Rome,  and  Adrian  or  Hadrian,  an  Afri- 
can monk.  By  their  learning  and  devotion  these 
three  great  teachers  may  be  said  to  have  created  in 
England  a  new  life  of  the  intellect.  They  carried 
the  precious  learning  of  the  Eastern  Empire,  then 
almost  extinct  in  Western  Europe,  into  the  savagery 
of  an  island  on  the  margin  of  Christendom.  Through 
them  there  arose  amid  the  solitudes  of  fenland  or 
forest  the  walls  of  the  monastic  schools.  Greek, 
practically  lost  to  Western  Europe  from  the  fifth  to 
the  fifteenth  century,  was  taught  in  seventh  century 
England,  and  Theodore's  pupils  read  the  very  words 
of  Homer.  Under  Hadrian  the  school  at  Canterbury 
became  the  nursery  of  the  new  culture,  while  in 


32         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEEATURE 

North umbria,  near  Jarrow,  on  the  banks  of  the  Tyne, 
Biscop  set  the  twin  schools  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul 
(674-679),  revisiting  Rome  to  procure  for  them  a 
priceless  store  of  manuscripts.  Under  the  combined 
stimulus  of  Christianity  and  Latin  culture,  literature 
burst  into  life.  At  the  monastery  of  Whitby 
founded  by  Aidan,  on  a  bleak  headland  of  the  North- 
umbrian coast,*  Csedmon  chants  his  Paraphrase  of 
the  Scriptures  (dr.  670)  the  first  English  poem  un- 
questionably native  to  English  soil.  At  the  monas- 
tery of  Jarrow,  Baeda  or  Bede  (673-735),  a  pupil  of 
Biscop's,  became  one  of  the  greatest  teachers  and 
prose  writers  of  his  time,  while  Aldhelm  (656-709), 
who  represents  the  scholarship  and  poetry  of  South- 
ern England,  as  Bede  does  that  of  the  North,  comes 
from  Malraesbury,  a  monastery  which  the  Irish  had 
founded,f  to  study  under  Hadrian  at  Canterbury. 
The  birthplace  of  English  literature  in  England  is 
thus  within  the  shadow  of  the  Church.  For  centu- 
ries its  history  centers  about  monasteries  such  as 
those  which  Biscop  planted  ;  quiet  strongholds  and 
retreats  where  poet,  chronicler,  and  teacher,  nourished 

*The  spot  is  thus  graphically  described  by  Green :  "As  we 
look  over  the  wide  stretch  of  country  whose  billowy  swells 
and  undulations  lift  themselves  dark  at  eventide  from  the 
mist  veil  that  lies  white  around  them,  we  see  again  the  waste 
in  which  Hild  reared  her  home,  its  gray  reaches  of  desolate 
water  skimmed  but  by  the  white  wings  of  gull  or  albatross,  its 
dark  tracts  of  desolate  moor  silent  save  for  the  wolf's  howl  or 
eagle's  scream." — Making  of  England,  p.  368. 

f  Founded  by  Maidulf ,  an  Irish  scholar,  shortly  after  658. — 
Green's  Making  of  England,  p.  339. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCEB  33 

on  some  fragments  of  past  learning,  were  sheltered 
from  the  coarse  violence  without. 

The  rapidity  with  which  the  new  religion  trans- 
formed barbarians  into  saints  and  scholars  bears 
witness,  not  only  to  the  power  of  Christi-  3^-^,  in. 
anity  and  culture,  but  also  to  the  reli-  stinct  in  the 
gious  temper  and  inherent  capacity  of  the  ^£ly  En8"" 
English  mind.  In  less  than  a  century 
an  unlettered  and  heathen  people  became,  under 
these  influences,  the  intellectual  leaders  and  teachers 
of  Western  Europe.  From  the  last  quarter  of  the 
seventh  to  the  beginning  of  the  eighth  century, 
while  Europe  was  a  chaotic  sea  of  contention,  the 
lamp  of  literature  and  learning  shone  from  England 
with  a  single  and  solitary  radiance. 

In  England  itself,  while  learning  flourished  in  Kent 
and  Wessex,  North umbria  held  the  intellectual  and 
literary,  as  she  had  held  the  political  -.. 
supremacy.  There,  where  the  best  that  premacy  of 
Irish  zeal  and  scholarship  could  give  Northumbria. 
was  mingled  with  the  choicest  learning  of  the  East, 
we  find  Csedmon  and  Bede  ;  there,  we  conjecture, 
was  the  home  of  the  poet  Cynewulf,  who  has  left  us 
but  his  works  and  his  name  ;  there,  too,  was  Alcuin 
(dr.  735-804),  who  brought  from  his  school  at  York 
the  learning  of  Northumbria  to  the  service  of  Charle« 
magne.* 

*  Stubbs  and  others  point  out  the  importance  of  Northum- 
brian scholarship  to  European  civilization.  "  It  may  be  said 
that  the  civilization  and  learning  of  the  eighth  century  rested 
on  the  monastery  which  he  (Biscop)  founded,  which  produced 
Bede.  and  through  him.  the  school  of  York,  Alcuin.  and  the 


34         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURL 

The  beautiful  story  of  Caedmon,  our  earliest  poet, 
is  told  us  by  Bede,  our  first  great  writer  of  prose. 

Caedmon,  at  first  a  dependent  and  after- 
Caedmon.  .  0 

ward   a  monk  at   the  monastery  ot  bt. 

Hilda  at  Whitby,  is  brought  before  us  as  one  to 
whom  poetry  came  as  the  gift  of  Heaven.  Unable 
to  sing  the  heathen  war-songs  of  the  past,  a  stranger 
appeared  to  him  in  a  dream  and  commanded  him  to 
sing  "  in  praise  of  the  creation."  Whereupon  he 
began  to  sing  those  verses  "  in  praise  of  God,  the 
Creator  of  all  things  "  which  are  the  first  notes  of  the 
great  antiphon  of  English  poetry.  When  the  abbess 
heard  of  this  she  had  Caedmon  taught  all  the  Bible 
narrative,  and  he,  ruminating  on  what  he  heard, 
turned  the  most  striking  portions  into  verse,  para* 
phrasing  in  this  way  much  of  the  books  of  Genesis  and 
Exodus,  and  "  many  other  histories  of  Holy  Writ." 

Bede  says  that  others  after  Caedmon  "  tried  to 
make  religious  poems. "  From  this  Caedmon  appears  to 
have  been  the  founder  of  a  school  of  religious  verse. 

There  has  been  much  discussion  over  the  author- 
ship of  the  paraphrases  formerly  attributed  to  Caed- 
mon. They  are  now  generally  believed  to  be  the 
work  of  different  and  unknown  authors,  but  a  few 
critics  still  think  that  a  part  of  the  paraphrase  "f 
Genesis  may  possibty  be  his.  Leaving  these  Co.. 
troversies  to  the  experts,  let  HL  look  briefly  at  the 
poems  themselves. 

The    Paraphrase    is    in    the    usual   Anglo-Saxon 

Carolinian  school  on  which  the  culture  of  the  Middle  Ages 
was  based." — Stubbs,  Smith's  Dictionary  of  Christian  Biog- 
raphy, vol.  i.  p.  309. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHACCEK  35 

measure  of  Beowulf,  with  the  compressed  style  and 
the  inverted  construction  which  mark  Csedmon'a 
the  early  English  verse.  It  is  without  "Paraphrase" 
rhyme,  relying  solely  on  accent  and  alliteration, 
according  to  the  practice  of  the  Anglo-Saxons.  In 
!  subject  and  in  spirit  only,  it  is  a  departure  from  the 
1  heathen  war-song.  It  is  the  song  of  a  Christian  scop, 
showing  the  grafting  of  new  elements  upon  an 
ancient  stock.  The  Creation,  the  Fall  of  Man,  the 
Flood,  the  Sacrifice  of  Isaac,  the  Passage  of  the  Red 
Sea,  and  other  parts  of  the  Bible  story,  are  told 
rapidly  and  simply,  but  with  touches  of  that  vivid 
definiteness  which  shows  the  true  poet's  gift  of  seeing. 
When  we  are  told  that  the  raven  sent  out  from  the 
Ark,  "perched  exultingly  on  the  floating  corpses," 
or  when  Abram,  looking  back,  sees  the  "  white-tur- 
reted  habitations  of  the  Egyptians  glitter  brightly  in 
the  sun,"  one  stroke  creates  the  picture.  The  story 
is  Oriental,  but  the  tone  is  English,  for  events  are 
seen  in  the  light  of  the  poet's  own  experience.  Satan's 
followers  are  bound  to  him  by  the  same  ties  of  grat- 
itude and  allegiance  as  those  which  united  the  Eng- 
lish thegns  to  their  lord  ;  the  sons  of  Reuben  are 
styled  "  sea-vikings."  The  very  pains  of  hell  suggest 
the  rigors  of  a  frigid  clime  : 

"  Then  cometh  the  dawn 
The  Eastern  wind, 
Frost  bitter  cold 
Ever  fire  or  dart."  * 

The  poet  of  the  barren  North  recurs  with  a  toucn- 

*  Thorpe's  translation,  iv.  1.  26.  In  this  translation  the  half- 
lines  are  printed  and  numbered  as  separate  lines  ;  c.  note  on  p. 
25  supra. 


86         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

ing  frequency  to  the  greatness  and  fertility  of  the 
earth: 

"  The  green  earth 

Which  was  with  waters  moistened, 

And  with  fruit  decked. 

Washed  with  liquid  streams 

And  like  God's 

Paradise."  * 

In  many  places,  like  the  breaking  forth  of  central 
fires,  there  spurts  out  the  primitive  joy  of  battle  ; 
the  poet  hears  the  rush  of  javelins,  sees  the  waiting 
ravens  hover  over  the  field,  the  gray  wolf  lurk  at  the 
dusky  edges  of  the  wood,  "  the  dark  chooser  of  the 
slain,"  or  he  exults  in  : 

"  The  birds  tearing 
Amid  the  slaughter  of  the  swords,"  f 

The  destruction  of  Pharaoh's  host  is  chanted  with 
a  terrible  and  triumphant  power.  The  cry  of  the 
perishing  is  in  the  waves,  the  waters  full  of  weapons. 
The  flood  "  rises  as  a  cloud  "  against  the  Egyptians. 
The  blue  air  is  tainted  with  corruption ;  corpses  roll 
in  the  foaming  gulfs  ;  the  Guardian  of  the  flood 
strikes  the  unsheltering  waves  with  his  ancient  fal- 
chion, and  the  band  of  the  sinful  sink,  their  souls  fast 
encompassed. 

Bede  tells  us  that  many  others  beside  Caedmon 
composed  religious  poems  in  English.  These  doubt- 
less, like  the  Miracle  plays  of  later  times, 

Other  reli-      ^id   much    to   establish    Christianity   in 
fpous  poems.  * 

the  hearts  of  the  people.     Some  of  the 

»  Thorpe's  trans.,  p.  19.  f  Ibid.,  p.  126. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE   CHAUCER  37 

f 

pieces  of  this  character,  probably  composed  during 
the  great  period  of  Northumbrian  literature,  or  be- 
tween 670  and  800  or  825,  are  among  the  best  pro- 
ductions of  Anglo-Saxon  verse.  Some  deal  with 
miraculous  legends  of  the  saints,  like  the  Andreas, 
which  tells  of  the  trials  and  final  triumph  of  St. 
Andrew  in  Mirmedonia,  the  Gruthlac,  and  the  Juliana. 
Some  are  metrical  translations  of  the  Psalms. 
Others,  like  the  Judith,  which  contains  a  strong 
description  of  the  killing  of  Holofernes,  are  directly 
based  on  the  Bible.  Even  the  Seafarer,  which  car- 
ries with  it  the  very  spell  of  the  sea,  its  perils,  and 
nameless  fascination,  till  we  hear  the  "wash  of  the 
waves,"  and  feel  our  cheeks  sting  with  the  icy  spray, 
is  a  religious  allegory,  and  closes  in  a  strain  of 
devoutness  and  praise. 

AVe  know  almost  nothing  of  the  poet,  or  poets, 
who  created  this  cycle  of  religious  verse.  Three 
poems,  the  Juliana,  the  Christ,  and  the 
Elene,  or  The  Finding  of  the  Cross,  are 
certainly  the  work  of  a  poet  named  Cynewulf  (b. 
dr.  720-730?),  as  he  has  imbedded  his  name  in  the 
text  arranged  as  an  acrostic,  and  written  in  Runic 
letters.  Of  the  man  Cynewulf  nothing  remains ; 
we  have  but  his  works  and  his  name.  He  is  gener- 
ally thought  to  have  been  a  Northumbrian  scop  of 
the  eighth  century,  and  many  poems,  including 
the  Andreas,  the  Judith,  and  the  Seafarer,  have 
been  attributed  to  him,  besides  the  three  certainly 
his. 

His  poem  of   Christ  is  in  three  parts,  which  treat 
respectively  of  the  Nativity,  the  Ascension,  and  the 


38         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Day  of  Judgment.     We  are  not  disturbed  h*ere,  as  in 
Csedmon's  Paraphrase,  by  any  harsh  in- 

Cynewulfs     trusion  of  the  old  heathenism  ;  the  poet 

"Christ."  ,    n       r.u    •,       -,,  .  .. 

seems   wholly   filled   with    a  new  spirit 

of  hope  and  blessedness  and  peace.  Reading  this 
after  the  somber  and  cheerless  fatalism  of  the  earlier 
poems,  we  seem  to  have  passed  from  death  into  life, 
out  of  darkness  into  a  marvelous  light.  The  whole 
poem  seems  shining  and  radiant  with  brightness  and 
joy,  and  with  the  assurance  of  a  final  triumph.  The 
heavens  are  opened,  and  we  hear  the  hymning  of 
angels.  The  voice  of  God  declares,  in  words  that 
seem  to  scatter  the  ancient  darkness  of  English 
heathenism  : 

"  Let  there  be  light  for  ever  and  ever, 
A  radiant  joy  for  each  of  living  men 
Who  in  their  generations  shall  be  born."  * 

The  light  and  happiness  which  seem  in  an  indescrib- 
able way  to  flow  out  to  us  from  the  poem  are  broken 
only  by  the  terrible  vision  of  Judgment,  when  the 
guilty  are  shaken  by  the  voice  of  doom.  Then,  with 
a  rapturous  description  of  the  happiness  of  the 
blessed,  the  poem  closes  : 

"  There  is  angels'  song  ;  the  bliss  of  the  happy  ; 

A  gladsome  host  of  men  ;  youth  without  age  ; 

The  glory  of  the  heavenly  chivalry  ;  health  without  pain 

For  righteous  workers  ;  and  for  souls  sublime 

Rest  without  toil ;  there  is  day  without  dark  gloom, 

jv*.r  gloriously  bright ;  bliss  without  bale  ; 

*  Christ,  Gollancz'  translation. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  3d 

Friendship  'twixt  friends  forever  without  feud  ; 
Peace  without  enmity  for  the  blest  in  Heaven, 
In  the  communion  of  Saints."  * 

The  Elene,  which  some  consider  Cj'newulf's  great- 
'  est  work,  tells  how  Constantine,  in  peril  from  the 
Huns,  sees  the  cross  in  a  vision,  and  is  told  by  an 
angel  that  lie  shall  conquer  by  that  token.  He  is 
victorious  ;  and  after  learning  to  what  religion  the 
sign  belongs  he  becomes  a  Christian.  The  rest  of  the 
poem  deals  with  the  journey  of  his  mother,  Helena,  in 
quest  of  the  true  cross,  which  is  found  buried  on 
Mount  Calvary  with  t\vo  others.  A  dead  man  is 
placed  on  each  cross  in  turn.  The  touch  of  the 
third  restores  him  to  life,  and  the  true  cross  is  thus 
found. 

The  prose  of  Aid-helm  and  of  Bede  marks  the 
beginning  of  a  new  literary  era.  The  English 

poetrv  of  Caedmon.  the  scop,  is  a  natural 

Bede  and  Eng. 
outgrowth  of  a  literary  form  native  to  ijgh  prose. 

the  English  ;  the  Latin   prose  of  Bede, 
the    monk-scholar,  reminds  us   of  the   rise  of    men 
of   a   new   type   in   England,  representatives    of    a 
class  destined  to  guide  for  centuries  the  intellectual 
development  of  Europe. 

Basda  or  Bede  was  born  near  Wearmouth  in  673. 
Early  left  an  orphan,  he  entered  the  neighboring 
monastery  which  Biscop  had  recently  founded,  and 
there  lived  out  his  useful,  tranquil  life,  finding  his 
pleasure  in  learning,  or  teaching,  or  writing.  "With 
the  keen  love  of  knowledge,  the  patient  industry,  the 

*  Christ,  Gollancz'  translation,  1.  1648.  etc. 


40         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

broadly  receptive  mind  of  a  great  scholar,  he  gath« 
ered  to  himself  and  summed  np  much  that  was  best 
in  the  various  streams  of  culture  that  met  in  the 
England  of  that  day.  Besides  the  teachings  of 
Biscop  and  the  use  of  his  store  of  manuscripts,  he 
absorbed  the  learning  of  Ireland,  of  Canterbury,  of 
Gaul,  and  of  Rome.  Besides  Greek  and  Latin,  he 
knew  something  of  Hebrew,  and  the  treatise  De 
Natura  JRerum,  long  used  as  a  text-book  in  the  mediae- 
val schools,  shows  him  to  have  mastered  the  entire 
range  of  the  science  of  that  day.  His  commentaries 
on  the  Bible  furnished  the  material  for  later  work  ; 
his  Lives  of  the  Saints  associate  him  with  the  begin- 
ning of  biographical  literature  in  Europe,  his  great 
work  on  the  Ecclesiastical  History  of  the  English 
People,  still  the  chief  authority  for  the  period  of 
which  it  treats,*  has  gained  for  him  the  title  of  the 
"  Father  of  English  History."  These,  and  many 
other  works  on  almost  every  subject  known  to  the 
learning  of  that  day,  are  in  Latin  ;  but  his  last  labor, 
the  closing  words  of  which  he  dictated  to  his  scribes 
almost  with  his  dying  breath,  was  an  English  trans- 
lation of  the  Gospel  of  St.  John. 

Besides  writing  forty-five  books,  Bede  found  time 
to  be  a  great  teacher.  Six  hundred  pupils  were 
gathered  about  him  in  his  school  at  Jarrow,  and  we 
trace  his  influence  in  the  foundation  of  the  great 
school  at  York. 

The  figure  of  our  first  great  scholar  rises  before 

*  The  Ecclesiastical  History  begins  with  Caesar's  invasion  of 
Britain  and  comes  down  to  731,  or  to  four  years  before  the 
death  of  Bede. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  41 

us  high  above  the  level  of  the  men  about  him,  full  of 
devotion,  gentleness,  and  simplicity.  In  him,  as  in 
Cynewulf,  the  stern  submission  to  an  unknown  weird 
is  lost  in  the  joyous  acceptance  of  a  larger  hope. 
Well  might  he  repeat  in  his  last  illness  that  sentence 
of  St.  Ambrose:  "  I  have  not  lived  so  as  to  be  ashamed 
to  live  among  you  ;  nor  am  I  afraid  to  die,  because  we 
have  a  good  God."  The  meaning  and  influence  of 
such  a  life  grows  clearer,  as  we  read  in  the  unaffected 
words  of  one  of  his  disciples  the  story  of  the  master's 
death.  With  failing  breath  he  had  toiled  through 
the  day,  dictating  his  translation  of  St.  John's  Gospel, 
and  as  the  day  closed,  his  work  was  done.  At  twi- 
light, amid  his  weeping  scholars,  his  face  turned 
toward  the  oratory  where  he  was  wont  to  pray,  with 
"  great  tranquillity  "  his  soul  went  out  from  among 
them.* 

The  conditions  which  had  lifted  Northumbria  into 
intellectual  leadership,  and  which  had  made  Bede  the 
teacher  of  the  Western  world,  were  j^g  coming 
roughly  broken.  From  the  time  of  of  the  Danes. 
Bede's  death,  the  once  powerful  kingdom  of  Xorth- 
umbria  was  shaken  by  treason  and  anarchy,  a  prey  to 
lawlessness,  plague,  and  famine.  Toward  the  close 
of  the  century  (dr.  789)  northern  England  is  in  the 
clutches  of  a  new  peril.  Danish  marauders  swarm 
southward  from  their  northern  fiords,  and  the  newly 
gained  civilization  of  England  is  menaced  by  a  fresh 
inrush  of  heathenism.  The  rich  and  defenseless 

*  See  Green's  History  of  the  English,  People,  vol.  i.  p.  6"J. 
The  story  is  originally  told  bj  Cuthbert  in  his  letter  to  Cuth- 
wine. 


42          INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

religious  houses  were  shining  marks  for  plunder.  Of 
the  monasteries  at  Jarrow  and  Holy  Isle  only  the 
shattered  walls  were  left.  Early  in  the  century  fol- 
lowing the  Danes  closed  in  on  England  with  a  yet 
fiercer  persistence.  Northumbrian  learning  was 
blotted  out  ;  the  Abbey  of  Whitby  was  demolished. 
Another  band  sacked  Croyland,  Peterborough, 
Huntingdon,  and  Ely.  At  last  heathenism  was  con- 
fronted and  beaten  back  by  the  steadfast  heroism  of 
Alfred  (Battle  of  Edington,  878). 

Under  the  treaty  of  Wedmore  which  followed 
(879),  the  south  was  secured  to  the  English  only  by 
yielding  the  north  to  the  invaders,  and  Northumbria 
lay  prostrate  under  the  heel  of  the  barbarian. 

Learning,  thus  stifled  in  the  north,  "ose  in  the 
south  into  a  new  prominence  under  the  unwearying 

and   comprehensive   energy   of    Alfred. 
Revival    of   ,,,,  ,       ,  .  ,        , 

learning         When  the  king  came  to  the  throne  he 

under  sa\v    the    great    seats    of   learning   de- 

A  l'fro/1 

stroyed,  scholarship  nearly  extinct,  and 
the  whole  people  sinking  back  into  ignorance.  Not 
many  north  of  the  Huraber,  and  hardly  a  man  south 
of  it,  could  understand  the  Latin  service  book,  or 
translate  a  Latin  letter.  Alfred  threw  himself  into 
the  task  of  educational  reform.  He  gathered  learned 
men  about  him  from  many  parts  of  Britain  and  from 
countries  over  sea  :  Asser  the  Welshman,  Grimbald,* 
from  the  country  of  the  Franks.  He  rebuilt  monas- 
teries ;  he  founded  a  school  at  his  court  for  the  young 
nobles.  He  labored  for  the  better  training  of  the 

*  Grimbald,  or  Grimbold,  is  supposed  to  have  come  fmm  the 
Flemish  monastery  of  St.  Omer. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  43 

priesthood,  on  whom  the  intellectual  as  well  as  spirit- 
ual life  of  the  country  mainly  rested.  But  his  hopes 
for  education,  with  a  breadth  of  popular  sympathy 
wonderful  in  those  rude  times,  reach  far  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  clerical  class.  It  is  his  wish  that  all  the 
children  of  freemen  of  sufficient  means,  shall  at  least 
learn  to  read  and  write  English.  The  motive  back 
of  his  own  writings  is  his  desire  to  raise  the  general 
standard  of  education.  He  laments  that  as  Latin  is 
almost  the  sole  language  of  scholarship,  learning  is 
locked  up  from  the  English  reader.  With  a  beauti- 
ful humility  he  becomes  himself  a  pupil  that  he  may 
be  the  teacher  of  his  people  as  he  is  their  ruler  and 
defender.  To  meet  the  general  need,  he  makes  free 
renderings  from  the  Latin,  amplifying,  explaining, 
and  adapting  them  to  the  popular  mind.  In  this 
way  he  prepared  the  Consolation  of  Philosophy,  by 
Boethius,  a  heathen  philosopher  of  the  fifth  and 
sixth  centuries,  a  book  full  of  lofty  reflections,  and 
much  read  during  the  Middle  Ages.  He  also  trans- 

o  o 

lated  the  Pastoral  Care  of  Pope  Gregory  the  Great, 
a  book  designed  to  show  what  the  ideal  priest  should 
be,  and  sent  a  copy  to  the  bishop  of  every  diocese. 
General  history  was  furnished  by  his  rendering  of 
a  popular  work  by  Orosius,  a  Spanish  monk,  and  the 
past  of  England  by  a  translation  of  the  Ecclesiasti- 
cal History  of  Bede.  It  was  in  Alfred's  reign,  and 
probably  under  his  direct  influence  and 

*Ty.rt  *'  PViron 

supervision,  that  the  Annals  or  Chroni-   r,le,, 
cle,  brief  historical  records  which  monks 
had  "oted  down  in  certain  monasteries  from  a  very 
early  period,  were  given  a  fuller  and  less  fragmen- 


44          INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LJXE&&TJB2 

taiy  form.  This  Chronicle  remains  a  wonderful 
monument  to  early  English  patriotism.  Professor 
Earle  thinks  that  the  English  began  this  practice  of 
jotting  down  important  contemporary  events  at  least 
as  eai'ly  as  the  seventh  century.  However  this  may 
be,  we  have  in  the  Chronicle  a  history,  a  consid- 
erable portion  of  which  is  contemporaneous,  which 
stretches  from  the  invasion  of  Caesar  in  55  B.  c.  to 
the  death  of  Stephen,  A.  D.  1154.  "From  Alfred's 
time  the  narrative  continues  sometimes  full,  some- 
times meager,  sometimes  a  dry  record  of  names  and 
dates,  sometimes  rising  to  tho  highest  flight  of  the 
prose  picture  or  the  heroic  lay,  but  in  one  shape  or 
other  never  failing  us,  till  the  pen  dropped  from  the 
hand  of  the  monk  of  Peterborough,  who  recorded 
the  coming  of  Henry  of  Anjou."  *  At  times,  as  though 
the  Chronicler  had  grown  restive  under  the  restraints 
of  the  less  impassioned  medium,  the  prose  gives  way 
t,o  verse.  The  chant  of  battle  rises  in  the  song  on 
the  victory  at  Brunanburh,  or,  as  in  the  poem  on  the 
death  of  King  Edgar,  we  find  the  song  of  mourning, 
iiowever  direct  a  share  Alfred  may  have  taken  in 
the  editing  of  the  Chronicle,  its  improvement  is 
Growth  of  naturally  related  to  that  elevation  of 
English  English  prose  into  a  literary  importance 
prose.  which  is  one  of  the  glories  of  his  reign. 

To  Alfred  the  necessity  for  his  work  as  a  translator 
was  doubtless  a  matter  for  regret ;  to  him  it  meant 
the  decline  of  Latin  learning ;  to  us  it  means  also 
the  beginning  of  English  prose.  As  the  history  of 
English  poetry  reaches  back  to  that  great  era  when 
*E.  A.  Freeman  JSncyctopcedia Britannica,  title  "England." 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  45 

Northumbrian  scholarship  was  paramount  in  the 
west,  the  rise  of  English  prose  dates  from  the  court 
of  Alfred  at  Winchester. 

The  century  and  a  half  which  lies  between  the 
death  of  Alfred  and  the  Norman  Conquest  (901-1066) 
produced  little  of  sufficient  value  from  FromAlfred 
a  purely  literary  aspect  to  detain  the  to  the  Norman 
general  reader.  Yet  certain  features  of  Conquest, 
the  period  must  be  fixed  in  the  mind  if  we  would 
not  lose  our  hold  on  the  continuity  of  England's 
mental  growth.  Although  the  country  ceded  to  the 
Danes  by  the  Peace  of  Wedmore  (879)  was  gradually 
won  back  under  Alfred's  successors,  Edward  the 
Elder  (901-925)  and  Athelstane  (925-940),  Wessex 
and  the  south  retained  that  literary  and  political 
supremacy  which  Alfred  had  begun.  After  the 
ravages  and  final  settlement  of  the  Danes,  the  bril- 
liant literary  activity  of  the  north  seems  to  have 
been  extinguished,  and  for  more  than  three  centuries 
after  the  death  of  Alcuin  (804)  the  pathetic  silence 
that  settles  down  on  Northumbria  remains  almost 
unbroken.  In  the  south  alone,  where  the  effects  of 
Alfred's  practical  enthusiasm  still  lingered,  we  find 
the  traditions  of  culture  and  the  signs  of  some 
literary  activity.  This  southern  learning  and  litera- 
ture was  chiefly  associated  with  great  religious 
foundations  and  with  the  history  of  the  Church. 
The  men  who  rise  into  literary  prominence  are 
chiefly  ecclesiastical  dignitaries  :  Dunstan  (924-988), 
Abbot  of  Glastonbury,  and  afterward  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury  ;  JEthelwold  (908  (?)-984),  Bishop  of 
Winchester  ;  ^Elfric  (fl.  1006),  Abbot  of  Eynsham. 


46         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

or  Ensham,  near  Oxford.  The  energies  of  these  men, 
and  especially  of  the  two  last  mentioned,  were  largely 
occupied  in  introducing  into  the  English  monasteries, 
that  had  become  worldly  and  corrupt,  the  stricter 
rule  of  life  which  had  already  begun  to  prevail  in 
Gaul  and  Flanders.  They  were  educational  and 
monastic  reformers,  and  the  tone  of  their  work  is 
consequently  scholarly  or  theological.  JElfric  "is 
the  voice  of  that  great  Church  reform  which  is  the 
most  signal  fact  in  the  history  of  the  latter  half  of 
the  tenth  century."  His  Homilies,  or  sermons  (990- 
994),  are  famous  in  the  history  of  early  English 
prose. 

On  the  whole  we  observe  that  while  poetry  had  held 
a  large  place  in  Northumbria  during  the  era  of  her 
literary  leadership,  the  energies  of  Wessex  during 
this  later  period  find  their  main  outlet  in  prose.  The 
historic  prose  of  the  Chronicle,  broken  occasionally 
by  the  chant  of  the  war-song,  text-books,  sermons,  or 
the  lives  of  saints,  such  is  the  shape  taken  by  the 
literary  production  of  this  time,  until  we  read  signs 
of  an  altered  mood  in  the  period  which  directly  pre- 
cedes that  mighty  change  in  the  history  of  England, 
the  Norman  Conquest. 

STUDY  LIST 

LITERATURE  FROM  EARLIEST  TIMES  TO  NORMAN 
CONQUEST 

1.  CELTIC  LITERATURE.  Henry  Morley  gives  specimens 
of  Celtic  poetry  in  his  English  Writers,  vol.  i.  chap.  iii. 
Among  these  Uywarch's  Lament  for  his  son  Qwenn  (p.  217), 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  47 

Lament  for  Cyndyllan  (p.  218),  and  The  Gododin  of  Aneurin 
(p.  223),  may  be  particularly  noted.  The  poem  last  named 
is  also,  with  others,  in  Shorter  English  Poems,  edited  by  H. 
Morley  in  Cassell's  Library  of  English  Literature.  V.  also 
Gaelic  Poems,  edited  with  translation  in  the  same  volume, 
and  for  Irish  Celts,  cf.  Old  Celtic  Romances,  by  P.  W.  Joyce. 
Tennyson's  Voyage  of  Maeldune,  is  founded  on  one  of  the 
stories  in  this  collection. 

Lady  Charlotte  Guest's  edition  of  The  Mabinogion  is  the 
most  complete ;  The  Boys'  Mabinogion,  by  Sidney  Lanier,  will 
be  found  convenient  with  class. 

W.  F.  Skene's  The  Four  Ancient  Books  of  Wales,  two 
volumes,  contains  Cymric  poems  attributed  to  the  bards  of  the 
sixth  century. 

2.  EARLY  ENGLISH.  Good  examples  of  early  English  poetry 
will  be  found  in  Longfellow's  Poets  and  Poetry  of  Europe. 
Note  particularly  The  Exile's  Complaint,  The  Grave,  The 
Soul's  Complaint  against  the  Body,  and  The  Ruined  Wall- 
Stone.  There  are  also  extracts  from  the  longer  poems.  (This 
Is  a  good  collection  for  class  of  younger  students.)  The 
Seafarer,  The  Fortunes  of  Man,  opening  of  Csedmon's  Crea- 
tion, etc.,  will  be  found  in  Morley's  English  Writers,  vol.  ii. 
The  Seafarer  is  also  in  Illustrations  of  English  Religion,  edited 
by  Morley,  in  Cassell's  Library  of  English  Literature,  and 
in  the  appendix  to  Early  English  Literature  of  Stopford 
A.  Brooke.  See  also  Conybeare's  Illustrations  of  Anglo-Saxon 
Literature.  For  Beowulf,  The  Deeds  of  Beowulf,  John  Earle, 
Clarendon  Press  (prose  translation),  and  Beowulf,  metrical 
line  for  line  translation,  by  J.  M.  Garnett  (Ginn  &  Co.). 
Professor  John  Lesslie  Hall's  translation  (D.  C.  Heath  &  Co.), 
is  both  rhythmical  and  alliterative.  For  Caedmon,  Thorpe's 
Metrical  Paraphrase  gives  translation  with  text.  "William 
of  Malmesbury's  account  of  Aldhelm,  and  Cuthbert's  Let- 
ter on  the  Death  of  Bede,  are  given  in  Morley's  Library 
of  English  Literature,  and  interesting  extracts  from  the 
prefaces  of  King  Alfred  will  be  found  in  Earle's  A.  nqb-Sasocm 
Literature, 


48         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

3.  CRITICISM  AND  HISTORY  OP  LITERATURE.     Azarias'  De 
velopment  of  English  Literature — Old   English   Period,   Ten 
Brink's  Early  English  Literature.      The  Englishman  and  the 
Scandinavian,   by  Frederick    Metcalfe,  compares  the  Early 
English  and  Norse  literatures.     The  History  of  Early  English 
Literature,  by  Rev.   Stopford   A.   Brooke.     Translations  of 
early  poems  in  this  book  are  especially  concise  and  spirited. 

4.  HISTORY.     Green's  Making  of  England,  Green's  Conqut&.\ 
of  England.     On  extent  of  admixture  of  English  and  Celt,  a 
question  much  discussed,  consult  Matthew  Arnold's    Celtic 
Literature;  Huxley's  article  on  Some  Fixed  Points  in  British 
Ethnology,  in  Critiques  and  Addresses,  p.  177 ;  Isaac  Taylor's 
Words  and  Places;    Henry  Morley's  article  on    The   Celtic 
Element  in  English  Literature,  in  Clement  Marot  and  Other 
Essays. 

III.    THE  NORMAN  CONQUEST 

The  conquest  of  England  by  the  Normans  in  1066 
brought  a  new  and  powerful  influence  into  English 
life  and  literature.  The  Normans,  or  Northmen, 
were  originally  a  mixed  horde  of  piratical  adventur- 
ers from  Scandinavia  and  Denmark,  who  had  won  a 
country  for  themselves  in  the  north  of  France.*  En- 
terprising, quick-witted,  open  to  new  ideas,  this  race 
of  born  rulers  did  more  than  seize  upon  some  of  the 
fairest  lands  of  southern  Europe  ;  wherever  it  went 
it  appropriated  much  that  was  best  in  the  civilization 
of  those  it  subdued.  The  fur-clad  and  half-savage 
Northmen,  whose  black,  square-sailed  ships  crowded 
up  the  Seine  after  Hollo,  were  heathen  freebooters. 
The  Normans  who  conquered  England  a  century  and 
a  half  later  were  the  most  courtly,  cultured,  art- 
loving,  and  capable  race  in  Europe.  In  origin  they 

*  V.  Table  of  Races,  cote  p.  12,  supra. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  49 

were  Teutonic,  like  the  English  ;  yet  so  completely 
had  they  adopted  and,  in  some  respects,  improved 
the  civilization  of  the  Gaul  and  the  Roman,  that 
scarcely  an  outward  trace  of  their  origin  remained. 
After  establishing  themselves  in  Normandy  they  had 
rapidly  acquired  the  corrupt  Latin  of  the  region  and 
transformed  it  into  a  literary  language.  "  They 
found  it  a  barbarous  jargon,  they  fixed  it  in  writing, 
and  they  employed  it  in  legislation,  in  poetry,  in 
romance."*  They  became  Christians,  and  eagerly 
absorbed  the  learning  which  the  Church  had  brought 
with  it,  encouraging  such  scholars  as  Lanfranc  and 
Anselm  to  settle  among  them.  They  built  splen- 
did castles  and  cathedrals  ;  they  were  foremost  in 
instituting  chivalry.  Their  poets,  or  trouv&res, 
chanted  long  knightly  songs  of  battle,  love,  and 
heroism — Chansons  de  Gestes,\  as  they  are  called — 
that  in  style  and  spirit  were  not  Scandinavian,  but 
French  and  southern.  Coming  from  the  cruder 
heroism  of  the  vanishing  Teutonic  age  into  this 
Norman  world  of  the  eleventh  century,  we  feel  that 
life  has  adorned  itself  with  a  new  courtliness,  gayety, 
and  affluence.  The  northern  hardness  and  repression 
have  softened  under  the  fructifying  breath  of  a 

*V.  Macaulay's  History  of  England,  vol.  i.  pp.  21-22. 

f  "Chansons  de  Gestes,  songs  of  families,  as  the  term  liter- 
ally means,  are  poems  describing  the  history  and  achieve- 
ments of  the  great  men  of  France  in  early  times.  Oeste  has 
three  senses — (1)  The  deeds  (gesta)  of  a  hero;  (2)  the  poem 
illustrating  those  deeds  ;  (3)  the  family  of  the  hero,  and  the 
set  of  poems  celebrating  it." — Saintsbury's  Primer  of  French 
Literature,  p.  3. 


50  INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

warmer  air,  heavy  with  romance  and  the  odors  of 
the  pleasure-loving  South.  From  the  somber  shad- 
ows of  an  antique  world,  with  the  Titanic  shapes  of 
its  hero-sagas,  we  approach  the  sunshine  and  the 
shifting  colors,  the  movement  and  the  blazonry,  of 
the  Romantic  Middle  Age.  The  Normans  had 
become  leaders  in  this  new  world,  largely  through 
that  extraordinary  adaptability,  that  readiness  to 
receive  and  utilize  fresh  impressions  which  was  char- 
acteristic of  their  race  ;  but  the  followers  of  William 
the  Conqueror  were  far  from  being  pure  Teutons, 
even  in  blood.  In  France  the  invading  Northmen 
had  intermarried  with  the  native  population,  which 
was  largely  Celtic,  and  the  two  races  mixed  as  the 
English  and  Celt  did  in  parts  of  England.*  "  The 
indomitable  vigor  of  the  Scandinavian,  joined  to  the 
buoyant  vivacity  of  the  Gaul,  produced  the  ruling 
and  conquering  race  of  Europe."  f  With  William, 
too,  was  a  motley  following  of  adventurers  from 
many  parts  of  France,  so  that  through  the  Conquest 
the  Celtic  blood,  this  time  mixed/  with  that  of  other 
races,  mingled  a  second  time  with  that  of  the 
English.  But  more  important  than  the  strain  of 
Celtic  blood  that  flowed  in  with  the  Norman,  is  the 
nature  of  the  civilization  the  Norman  carried  with 
him.  However  closely  he  may  have  been  bound  by 
descent  to  the  Teutonic  North,  the  tone  of  the 
Norman  civilization  was  essentially  French  and 
Roman.  From  the  time  when  Harold  fell  among  the 
heap  of  English  dead  at  Hastings  to  the  time  when 

*  V.  vwpra,  p.  17. 

|  Freeman's  Norman  Conquest,  vol.  i.  p.  170. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  51 

the  genius  and  the  speech  of  English  and  Norman 
were  wedded  in  the  poetry  of  Chaucer,  our  attention 
is  centered  upon  the  struggle  for  precedence  in  lan- 
guage and  in  literature  between  the  Norman  and  the 
English,  and  upon  the  final  but  modified  triumph  of 
the  native  over  the  intruding  foreign  type.  In  the 
period  immediately  following  the  Norman  Conquest 
the  lines  of  distinction  between  conquerors  and  con- 
quered are  sharply  drawn.  England  is  in  the  mailed 
hand  of  the  king  and  his  barons  ;  the  king  is  the 
Duke  of  Normandy,  the  barons  Norman  barons. 
Separate  at  first,  yet  side  by  side,  are  two  races  — 
Norman  and  English  :  two  languages  —  Norman 
and  English.  The  great  bulk  of  the  upper  or 
land-owning  class  was  made  up  of  Normans  ;  the 
Norman  tower,  massive,  square,  obdurate,  rose 
throughout  the  land,  and  forced  home  on  every 
Englishman  the  hated  fact  of  a  foreign  rule.  But  a 
dominion  of  a  less  tangible  but  no  less  actual  kind 
came  with  the  Norman  Conqueror  ;  the  leadership  in 
thought  and  scholarship  and  literature  passed  quietly 
under  the  control  of  the  foreigner.  In 
the  earlier  half  of  the  eleventh  century, 


while  learning  languished  in  England,  it 
was  making  rapid  advances  in  the  schools  of  Nor- 
mandy and  of  France.  The  Conquest  linked 
England  to  a  nation  which  was  then  taking  a 
leading  part  in  the  intellectual  movement  of  the 
time  ;  it  laid  the  bridge  by  which  the  culture  of  the 
Continent  passed  over.  The  monasteries  continued 
to  be  the  great  springs  of  education  and  of  literature, 
but  by  the  Conquest  the  monasteries  themselves  had 


52          INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

passed  very  largely  into  the  hands  of  the  foreigner, 
so  that  the  intellectual  life  of  the  nation  was  thus 
influenced  at  its  very  source  by  an  alien  and  higher 
culture.  As  the  English  «arl  was  replaced  by  the 
Norman  baron,  so  in  many  cases  the  great  English 
dignitaries  of  the  Church  were  superseded  by 
Norman  or  foreign  scholars.  Thus  Lan franc  was 
taken  from  the  monastic  school  at  Bee,  then  famous 
for  the  part  it  was  taking  in  the  intellectual  revival 
in  Normandy,  and  made  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 
From  Bee,  too,  came  Anselm,  to  be  Lanfranc's  sue* 
cessor  in  the  archbishopric,  a  man  of  rare  holiness, 
purity,  and  gentleness,  as  well  as  one  of  the  deepest 
thinkers  of  his  time.  Thus,  during  the  period  suc- 
ceeding the  Conquest,  foreign  scholarship  did  much 
to  lift  up  the  tone  of  education  in  England,  which, 
especially  during  the  early  half  of  the  eleventh  cen- 
tury, had  fallen  very  low.  These  foreign  scholars 
were  writers  as  well  as  teachers,  and  we  owe  to  them, 
directly  or  indirectly,  a  considerable  mass  of  prose 
literature  on  theological,  historical,  and  even  scien- 
tific subjects.  The  absolute  contrast  which  this 
work  presents,  in  both  form  and  object,  to  that  of 
Alfred,  some  two  centuries  before,  brings  clearly 
before  us  the  new  condition  of  affairs.  The  aim  of 
the  great  English  king  had  been  the  spread  of  learn- 
ing among  the  English  people,  by  giving  them  the 
best  works  he  knew  in  the  English  speech.  The 
men  of  the  later  revival  wrote  as  scholars  addressing 
scholars.  They  employed  Latin,  then  the  universal 
language  of  learning  throughout  Europe,  while  the 
speech  of  Alfred  was  fading  out  of  literature, 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  53 

having  enough  to  do  to  keep  itself  alive  at  all  as  the 
spoken  language  of  a  subject  people.  Among  the 
most  important  works  of  this  Latin  prose  are  those 
which  deal  with  English  history.  Anglo  Norman  or 
Latin  Chronicles,  so  called  to  distinguish  them  from 
the  English  or  Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle,  which  they 
gradually  superseded,  are  kept  at  the  different  mon- 
asteries, or  sometimes,  later,  composed  by  writers 
brought  in  living  contact  with  public  affairs  by  a 
residence  at  the  court.  Thus  in  the  twelfth  century 
we  find  such  famous  historians  as  William  of  Malmes- 
bury  (dr.  1095-6-1142?),  Ordericus  Vitalis  (1075-cm, 
1141-1142),  and  Henry  of  Huntingdon  (dr.  1084- 
1154), whose  works  continue  to  furnish  materials  to  the 
English  historians  of  the  present  day.  These  chron- 
iclers were  not  always  foreigners,  although  they  fol- 
lowed the  foreign  fashion  of  writing  their  histories 
in  Latin  ;  their  work  ends  with  Matthew  Paris,  the 
last  and  greatest  of  the  chroniclers  at  St.  Albans, 
who  died  in  1259. 

The  poetry  as  well  as  the  scholarship  of  Normandy 
came  into  England  in  the  train  of  the  Conqueror. 
The  Norman  abbot  ruled  in  the  monas- 
tery, the  Norman  poet,  or  trouvtre,  wan- 
dered  from  castle  to  castle,  singing  the 
chanson  of  Norman  chivalry  in  the  Norman -French 
of  the  conquering  race.  When  we  read  how,  at  the 
battle  of  Hastings,  the  jongleur  Taillefer  chanted 
the  song  of  Roland,  the  famous  Paladin  of  Charle- 
magne, throwing  up  his  sword  and  catching  it  again 
with  all  the  dexterity  of  his  craft,  the  scene  sticks  in 
our  imagination  as  something  dramatic  and  typical. 


54          INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

At  present  we  can  only  speak  of  this  Norman- 
French  poetry  in  the  most  general  terms,  as  we  are 
concerned  only  with  its  broad  relations  to  the  devel- 
opment of  English  literature.  Some  of  these  poems 
were  long  histories  in  verse,  as  the  Estoire  des  Englois, 
a  chronicle  of  the  early  English  kings,  of  Geoffrey 
Gaimar,  a  Norman  trouvdre.  Others  were  romances 
on  the  Trojan  War,  on  the  adventures  of  Charle- 
magne and  his  Court,  on  Arthur  and  his  Knights  of 
the  Round  Table,  or  on  Alexander  the  Great.  Groups 
of  poems,  Cycles  of  Romance,  as  they  are  called, 
grew  up  around  these  favorite  themes  ;  and  some  of 
these,  current  at  first  among  the  French-speaking 
classes,  were  translated  into  English  during  the  latter 
part  of  the  thirteenth  century,  or  furnished  the 
materials  for  English  poems.  In  this  way  did  the 
romantic  sentiment,  the  splendor  and  bravery  of  the 
French  chivalry,  sink  deep  into  the  thought  and 
imagination  of  the  English,  becoming  truly  a  part  of 
the  nation's  mental  life.  So  that  when  Chaucer  and 
Gower  wrote,  a  century  later,  it  had  become  part  of 
the  intellectual  inheritance  they  received  from  their 
fathers,  and  found  a  beautiful  and  natural  expres- 
sion in  their  works.  Nor  was  the  Norman  the  only 
foreign  literature  that  came  to  enrich  and  quicken 
English  poetry  during  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth 
centuries.  Before  the  Norman  Conquest,  whatever 
intellectual  impulse  came  to  England  from  without 
had  come  through  the  Church  ;  now  there  arose 
throughout  Europe  a  chorus  of  melody  which  was 
the  prelude  to  the  great  modern  literature,  and  in 
remote  England,  at  least  the  echo  of  this  melody  was 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  55 

to  be  more  and  more  clearly  heard.  The  troubadour 
in  the  south  of  France  sang  his  love-songs  as 
the  trouv&re  of  the  north  chanted  his  chansons  of 
knightly  deeds,  and  Richard  I.  (1189-1199)  the 
lover  of  this  southern,  or  Proven9al  poetry,  quick-  • 
ened  by  his  patronage  of  it  "  the  love  of  song  in 
courtly  Englishmen."  * 

Celtic  literature  brought  from  its  own  store  of 
legends  the  germ  of  the  Arthurian  romances,  and  we 
could  have  no  better  illustration  of  the  appropriation 
of  foreign  elements  which  characterized  this  time 
than  is  presented  by  the  evolution  of  this  epic  of 
Arthur.  The  Welsh  chronicler,  Geoffrey  of  Mon- 
mouth,  relates  the  story  among  others  in  his  fabu- 
lous History  of  British  Kings  (1147),  it  thence 
passes  into  French  verse  and  is  retold  by  the  Norman 
trouvdre,  Geoffrey  Gaimar ;  then  Wace,  another 
trouvbre,  translates  it,  making  some  additions  (1155), 
and  presents  his  work  to  Queen  Eleanor,  the  wife 
of  Henry  II.  The  subject  grows  in  popularity;  tra- 
ditions and  personages  at  first  entirely  distinct  are 
swept  into  the  current  that  circles  with  ever  increasing 
volume  about  the  heroic  figure  of  the  half-mythical 
Celtic  king — the  white-bearded  Merlin,  the  Breton 
story  of  Tristram  and  Isolde,  Lancelot,  who  was  to 
hold  so  large  a  place  in  the  story  in  its  later  forms. 
Walter  Map,  a  brilliant  Welshman  at  the  court  of 
Henry  II.,  is  generally  supposed  to  have  been  the 
first  to  combine  the  story,  in  a  Latin  history  which 
has  not  been  preserved,  with  the  legend  of  the 
Holy  Grail,  or  cup  used  at  the  Last  Supper.  After 
*  Morley's  English  Writers,  iii.  151. 


56          INTRODUCTION  TO   ENGLISH  LITERATDBE 

all  these  experiences,  the  story  at  last  found  its  way 
into  English,  in  the  JBrut,  or  Chronicle  of  Layamon, 
a  poem  of  which  we  shall  speak  presently.  Thus  the 
work  of  chronicler,  trouvere,  and  court  poet,  f  reighted 
with  rich  spoils  from  other  literatures,  becomes  at 
last  an  English  possession,  a  great  treasure-house  to 
English  poets  down  to  our  own  time,  when  Matthew 
Arnold  has  retold  us  the  story  of  Tristram  and 
Iseult  and  Tennyson  given  us  his  Idylls  of  the  King. 
Underneath  all  the  weight  of  this  foreign  society 
that  encrusted  the  surface  of  life,  that  glittered  in 
conspicuous  places,  apparently  dominant 
in  the  Church  and  in  the  state,  lay  the 
great  bulk  of  the  population,  still  obstinately  English. 
Underneath  the  upper  stratum  of  soctety,  with  its 
foreign  speech  and  its  foreign  literature,  the  Eng- 
lish people  still  clung  tenaciously  to  their  mother- 
tongue  ;  still  preserved,  if  in  a  feeble  and  somewhat 
intermittent  way,  their  own  native  literature.  Polit- 
ically the  Norman  conquered  England  ;  but  in  fact, 
during  the  two  centuries  that  followed  Hastings, 
England  conquered  the  Norman,  taking  to  her  use 
such  materials  from  his  language  and  literature  as 
pleased  her,  yet  keeping  the  essence  of  her  language 
and  national  genius  substantially  unchanged.  It  was 
the  singular  fate  of  the  Norman  to  adopt  for  a  second 
time  the  language  of  a  nation  he  had  subdued.  He 
conquered  in  France  and  exchanged  a  Teutonic  for  a 
Romance  speech  ;  he  conquered  in  England  only  to 
unlearn  his  Romance  speech  for  our  Teutonic  English. 
The  Norman  genius  was  pliable  and  imitative  ;  the 
English  genius  had  that  same  inflexible  persist- 


LITERATURE  BEFOKE   CHAUCER  57 

ence  which  in  modern  times  has  enabled  the  English- 
man to  force  his  language  and  civilization  on  nations 
at  the  very  ends  of  the  earth.  How,  then,  did  the 
English  literature  survive  during  the  long  years  when 
the  Norman  was  first  in  the  land;  how  did  it  reassert 
at  last  its  lost  supremacy  ? 

From  the  Norman  Conquest  to  the  reign  of  John 
(1199-1216)  English  maintained  itself  with  diffi- 
culty as  a  written  language.  Yet  _,  ..  ,  .. 

enough   written  English  of   this    period   erature  after 
•L  ..      ,     ,  the  Conquest, 

has   drifted   down   to    us  to   show  that 

even  as  a  written  language  it  was  not  wholly  crowded 
out  by  its  more  fashionable  rivals,  but  was  i-ather 
holding  its  own  until  better  times.  The  English 
Chronicle,  written  in  a  language  which  bears  hardly 
a  trace  of  foreign  influence,  extends  to  1154,  with 
but  a  short  break  during  the  turbulent  reign  of 
Stephen.  Besides  this  we  have  various  indications 
of  an  undercurrent  of  English  literature,  such  as 
versions  of  the  Psalter,  the  quaint  proverbial  poem 
The  Sayings  of  Alfred  in  the  reign  of  Henry  II. 
(1154-1189),  and  scraps  and  snatches  of  English  pop- 
ular song  embedded  in  the  Latin  histories  of  the 
time.  Yet  when  we  have  pieced  together  such  relics 
of  an  English  literature  as  diligent  search  oan  dis- 
cover, the  result  is  meager  enough  alongside  of  the 
great  volume  of  French  and  Latin  which  represents 
the  chief  literary  activity  of  the  time. 

When  we  reach  the  reign  of  John  we  note  the 
signs  of  change.  The  year  1204  saw,  through  the 
loss  of  Normandy,  the  severing  of  those  ties  which 
united  England  to  a  Continental  power ;  in  the  year 


58          INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

1205  English  poetry  arose,  as  from  the  depths  of  a 
remote  past,  in  the  Brut  of  Layamon.  Thus, 
strangely  enough,  the  end  of  a  foreign  rule  in  Eng- 
land, and  the  rebirth  of  a  true  English  poetry  are 
almost  exactly  contemporaneous.  We  know  nothing 
of  Layamon  but  what  he  tells  us  in  the  opening  lines 
of  his  poem.  He  was  a  parish  priest  in  North 
Worcestershire,  and  dwelt  at  Earnley  (now  Areley 
Regis)  on  the  banks  of  the  Severn.  There  it  came  to 
him  in  mind  and  in  his  chief  thought  that  he  would 
tell  the  noble  deeds  of  the  English  ;  so  he  got  books, 
among  others  the  Romans  de  Brut  of  Wace,  on  which 
his  own  Brut  is  largely  based.  How  near  we  get  to 
the  life  of  this  simple-minded  scholar,how  truly  human 
and  real  he  seems  to  us,  when  we  read  :  "  Layamon 
laid  before  him  three  books,  and  turned  over  the 
leaves  ;  lovingly  he  beheld  them,  may  the  Lord  be 
merciful  to  him."  *  Layamon's  Brut  is  a  profuse 
history  of  Britain  during  those  good  days  before  the 
coming  of  the  English,  which  Celtic  patriotism  had 
overlaid  with  mythical  incidents,  finding  in  them  a 
very  pleasure  ground  of  the  imagination.  It  begins 
with  ^Eneas,  telling  how  his  descendant  Brutus  came 
to  occupy  the  "  winsome  land  of  Britain,"  and  comes 
down  to  Cadwallon,  who  was  called  the  last  of  the 
British  kings.  In  the  unwieldy  narrative  are  the 
stories  of  Locrine,  King  Lear,  r.nd  King  Arthur, 
destined  to  be  made  famous  by  the  genius  of  later 
times.  Let  us  look  for  a  moment  at  the  significance 
of  this  extraordinary  poem.  From  one  aspect  it  is 
almost  like  a  voice  from  the  England  of  Csedmon 
*  Layamon's  Brut ;  with  literal  translation  by  Sir  F.  Madden, 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCER  59 

or  of  Cynewulf.  Its  language  is  well-nigh  wholly 
English,  hardly  one  hundred  words  of  Norman-French 
origin  heing  found  in  its  thirty-two  thousand  lines. 
Its  spirit,  too,  is  often  English,  as  where  the  verse  warms  • 
with  the  old  fighting  rage  of  the  true  English  battle  " 
song.  Yet  from  another  aspect  the  poem  shows  no 
less  clearly  the  tinge  of  those  foreign  elements  which 
had  come  to  color  life  and  literature.  The  subject, 
drawn  from  Norman  and  Celtic  sources,  is  the  glory 
not  of  English  but  of  British  heroes.  The  work,  as  a 
whole,  suggests  to  us  that  the  union  of  those  elements 
which  are  to  make  the  England  of  the  future,  has 
already  begun.  "  Layamon  stands  upon  the  dividing 
line  between  two  gi'eat  periods,  which  he  unites  in  a 
singular  manner.  He  once  more  reproduces  for  us 
an  age  that  is  forever  past ;  at  the  same  time  he  is 
the  first  English  poet  to  draw  from  French  sources, 
the  first  to  sing  of  King  Arthur  in  English  verse."  * 

From  the  time  of  Layamon  the  English  language 
struggles  forward  to  a  greater  place  in  literature. 
By  this    time  the  old    rivalry  between 
English  and  Norman  had  passed  away,   5eviJ^    °* 
the  superiority  of  the  English  in  mere 
numbers,   together    with    the    loss    of    Normandy, 
which   confined    the   interests    of  both  races  within 
the   limits   of   the    island,  told   more   and  more   in 
favor  of  a  national  unity.     So,  although  in   Henry 
III.'s  reign,    one  influential  Norman  tries    hard  to 
make    French  the  exclusive  language  of  literature, 
numbers  and  persistence  pushed  English  literature 
more  and  more  to  the  front. 

*  Ten  Brink,  Early  English  Literature,  p.  193 


60         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

We  may  not  pause  to  speak  of  the  works  that 
mark  this  advance,  the  religious  books,  such  as  the 
Ormidum  (dr.  1215),  a  versification  of  the  daily 
service,  followed  by  a  brief  sermon,  the  Ancren 
Riwle,  or  Rule  of  Anchoresses  (dr.  1225)  ;  but  we 
must  remember  that  it  is  toward  the  latter  part  of 
this  thirteenth  century  that  the  French  romances 
appear  in  an  English  dress,*  a  fact  significant  of  the 
increasing  importance  of  the  English  speech.  Yet  it 
was  not  a  pure  but  a  composite  language  that  was  to 
be  the  standard  English  of  the  future,  and  these 
romances  show  an  increasingly  large  proportion  of 
French  words.  So  on  every  side  we  see  that  this 
period  of  preparation,  which  is  to  lead  to  our  language 
and  our  literature,  is  drawing  to  an  end. 

So  far  we  have  spoken  only  of  the  written  litera- 
ture of  the  English  language  during  this  Anglo- 
Norman  time,  but  we  must  remember 
poetry*  ^ia^  *n  these  early  days  when  printing 
was  undreamed  of,  manuscripts  costly, 
and  reading  and  writing  unusual  accomplishments, 
a  great  part  of  a  nation's  literature,  and  of  its  best 
mental  life,  lay  outside  the  comparatively  narrow 
circle  of  books.  When  we  get  fairly  out  of  doors, 
leaving  the  trouvbre  or  jongleur  in  the  baron's  hall, 
leaving  the  monk  scribe  in  his  monastery,  bend- 
ing over  his  rolls  of  parchment,  we  come  at  last 
face  to  face  with  the  people.  The  world  of  books 
•does  not  yet  exist  for  them,  yet  they,  too,  have  a 
literature  :  for  history — tradition  and  legend  ;  for 
poetry — the  lilt  of  ballad  and  song.  There  the 

*  See  p,  54.  supra. 


LITERATURE   BEFORE   CHAUCEB  61 

childlike  wonder  or  terror  of  their  superstitious 
fancies,  their  strong  primitive  emotions,  find  their 
direct  and  natural,  if  somewhat  crude  and  primi- 
tive, expression.  The  whole  soul  of  the  nation  goes 
out  into  them.  In  our  day  the  thousands  go  to 
the  newspaper  or  the  novel  for  their  sensations. 
Then  the  people  were  glad  to  crowd  about  some 
wandering  gleeman  by  the  wayside,  or  in  the  village 
alehouse.  Then,  huddled  at  dusk  about  the  win- 
ter's fire,  the  country  folk  whispered  the  old  wives* 
talk  of  elf  and  ghost  and  goblin;  then,from 

"  The  spinsters  and  the  knitters  in  the  sun," 

from  the  plowman  in  his  furrow,  or  the  milkmaid 
bringing  home  her  pail,  arose  the  music  of  the  popu- 
lar song.  It  seems  probable  that  the  Norman  Con- 
quest made  no  break  in  this  English  popular  litera- 
ture. We  know  that  a  little  scrap  of  song  ascribed 
to  Canute  was  kept  alive  by  oral  tradition  from  his 
time  to  the  days  of  Henry  II.,*  when  a  chronicler 
chanced  to  preserve  it  in  his  history.  Doubtless  there 
were  thousands  of  popular  songs  which  never  found 
their  way  into  the  written  literature,  and  gradually 
perished  on  the  people's  lips.  In  prose  a  defiant 
patriotism  delights  in  stories  of  Hereward,  the  Eng- 
lish outlaw,  and  of  how  he  held  out  in  the  Fens 
against  the  Conqueror,  or,  later,  legend  and  ballad 
cluster  about  the  outlawed  Robin  Hood.  These  rude 

*  "  Merie  sungen  the  munaches  binnan  Ely,"  etc.  (Pleasantly 
sang  the  monks  in  Ely).  Morley's  English  Writers,  iii.  p.  240. 
The  story  is  told  by  Thomas  of  Ely,  who  wrote  a  history  of 
his  monastery  to  It07. 


62          INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LTTEBATUBB 

rhymes,  probably  dating  back  as  far  as  the  thirteenth 
century,  are  the  very  breath  of  the  popular  spirit. 
Robin  Hood  is  their  hero;  he  embodies  the  English 
hatred  of  the  Norman  rule,  their  love  of  a  free  and 
manly  life  in  the  merry  greenwood,  their  delight  in 
archery,  in  ale,  in  singlestick,  and  shrewd  strokes. 
This  popular  hero  hoodwinks  sheriffs  and  defies  the 
law,  yet  he  has  the  courtesy,  fairness,  and  gentleness 
that  appeal  to  the  English  heart.  He  suffers  no 
woman  to  be  molested;  "  poor  men's  goods  he  spared, 
abundantly  relieving  them  with  that  which  by  theft 
he  got  from  abbeys  and  the  houses  of  the  rich  earls." 
And  in  these  ballads  we  get  out  into  the  sunshine 
and  free  air,  by  little  artless  touches  that  tell  us  of 
lives  at  home  under  the  open  sky. 

"  When  shaws*  been  sheene,  and  sbradds  f  full  fayre, 
And  leaves  both  large  and  longe, 
Itt  is  merrye  walking  in  the  fayre  forrest 
To  heare  the  small  birdes  songe."  \ 

The  famous  Cuckoo  Song,  composed  before  1240, 
has  a  yet  fresher  breath  of  nature;  the  lines  have 
caught  the  rhythm  of  that  buoyant  pleasure  that  sets 
the  blood  dancing  in  the  spring: 

"  Summer  is  a-coming  in. 
Loud  sing  cuckoo : 
Groweth  seed  and  bloweth  mead 
And  springeth  the  wood  now. 
Sing  cuckoo,  cuckoo. 

*  Shaws,  etc.,   "Woods  are  shining." 

^Shradds,  perhaps  "  swards." 

$  Robin  Hood  and  Guy  of  Gisbome. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCEB  63 

Ewe  bleateth  after  lamb, 
Cow  after  calf  calls, 
Bullock  sterteth,  buck  verteth 

Merry  sing  cuckoo. 

Cuckoo,  cuckoo,  •well  sings  the  cuckoo. 
So  sweet  you  never  knew, 
Sing  cuckoo  now,  sing  cuckoo.* 

So  under  the  crust  of  the  Norman  chanson  or 
romance,  or  under  the  Latin  of  the  scholastics,  we  find 
the  true  English  literature,  flowing  like  a  fresh  and 
living  stream  under  the  ice  which  will  melt  at  last 
into  its  moving  waters. 

IV.— THE  MAKING  OF  THE  LANGUAGE 
After  the  Conquest  French  was  the  language  of 
the  court  and  ruling  classes  in  England,  and,  with  a 
few  exceptions,  it  became  that  of  literature.  English 
was  despised  by  the  polished  Xorman  as  the  barbarous 
tongue  of  a  conquered  people.  The  mass  of  English 
still  used  it,  but  as  it  almost  ceased  to  be  a  written 
or  literary  language,  many  words  not  used  in  ordinary 
speech  were  lost  from  its  vocabulary.  For  a  time 
Norman-French  and  English  in  its  various  dialects 
continued  in  use,  side  by  side,  as  distinct  languages, 
but  it  cannot  have  been  very  long  before  the  Nor- 
mans who  had  permanently  settled  in  England  began 
to  learn  the  native  speech.  The  two  races  grew 
closer  together,  and,  by  the  loss  of  Normandy  in 
1204,  the  connection  with  a  foreign  and  French-speak' 
ing  power  was  broken.  Parisian  French  had  indeed 
come  with  the  Plantagenet  kings;  during  the  reigns  of 
John  (1199-1216)  and  Henry  III.  (1216-1272)  it  was 
*  The  song  as  here  given  is  in  modernized  English. 


64         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  fashion  at  court,  and  for  some  time  later  it  con« 
tinued  to  be  the  language  of  state  documents,  of 
society,  education,  and  the  courts  of  law.  Yet,  in 
spite  of  this,  English  began  to  be  more  generally 
employed  by  the  French-speaking  people  outside  of 
court  circles.  A  writer  of  the  latter  part  of  the 
thirteenth  century  declares :  "  For  unless  a  man 
knows  French  people  regard  him  little  ;  but  the  low 
men  hold  to  English  and  to  their  own  speech  still."  * 

By  the  fourteenth  century  this  stubborn  "holding 
to  English  "  had  made  the  triumph  of  that  language 
certain.  The  Hundred  Years'  War  against  France, 
begun  in  Edward  III.'s  reign  (1327-1377),  may  have 
helped  to  bring  French  into  disfavor,  and  hastened, 
but  not  caused,  the  more  general  use  of  English. 
By  1339  English  instead  of  French  was  emplo3red 
in  nearly  all  the  schools  as  the  medium  of  instruction. 

In  1362  Parliament  passed  an  act  providing  that 
the  pleadings  in  the  law  courts  should  henceforth 
be  in  English,  "because  the  laws,  customs,  and 
statutes  of  this  realm,  be  not  commonly  known  in  the 
same  realm,  for  that  they  be  pleaded,  showed,  and 
judged  in  the  French  tongue."  f 

But  while  French  was  being  thus  given  up,  there 
was  as  yet  no  one  national  English  established  and 
undei'stood  throughout  the  whole  of  England.  One 
kind  of  English  was  spoken  in  the  north,  another  in 
the  middle  districts,  and  a  third  in  the  south,  and 
even  these  three  forms  were  split  up  into  further 
dialects.  These  three  dialects  are  commonly  known 

*  Robert  of  Gloucester's  Rhyming  Chronicle,  Cir.  1298. 
\  Lounsbury's  English  Language,  p.  54. 


LITERATURE  BEFORE  CHAUCEB  65 

as  the  Northern,  Midland,  and  Southern  English. 
During  the  latter  part  of  the  fourteenth  century  the 
East  Midland  English,  or  that  spoken  in  and  about 
London,  which  was  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  Mid- 
land district,  asserted  itself  above  the  confusion  and 
gradually  became  accepted  as  the  national  speech. 
Midland  English  had  an  importance  as  the  language 
of  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  as  well  a*  that  of  the 
capital  and  the  court,  and  its  supremacy  was  further 
due  to  its  being  made  the  language  of  literature.  The 
language  of  Wyclif's  translation  of  the  Bible  (1380), 
a  variety  of  this  Midland  form,  is  plainly  the  parent 
of  the  noble  Bible  English  of  our  later  versions. 
The  poet  John  Gower  (1325  ?-1408)  gave  up  the  use 
of  French  and  Latin  to  write  in  the  King's  or  Court 
English,  and,  more  than  all,  it  was  in  this  same  East 
Midland  English  of  the  Court  that  Geoffrey  Chaucer 
wrote  the  poems  which  became  so  widely  read. 
These  works  gave  to  East  Midland  English  a 
supremacy  which  it  never  lost. 

Now  this  East  Midland  dialect  was  not  a  pure 
English  ;  for  there,  as  elsewhere,  the  local  vari- 
ety of  the  native  speech  had  been  modified  by 
a  large  infusion  of  French.  When,  by  the  middle 
of  the  fourteenth  century,  the  tendency  toward 
a  general  adoption  of  English  grew  too  strong 
to  be  resisted,  that  English  was  neither  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  of  an  earlier  time,  nor  a  mere  outgrowth 
of  it,  but  a  Frenchified  tongue.  The  language  of 
Chaucer  was  thus  a  mixed  language,  in  its  founda- 
tions of  grammar  and  construction  still  substantially 
English,  iu  its  vocabulary  showing  a  considerable 


66  INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITER ATUEE 

infusion  of  French.  By  the  establishment  of  this  com- 
posite speech  the  influence  of  the  Norman  Conquest 
on  the  language  was  made  lasting,  so  that  the  effect  of 
the  French  rule  in  England  remains  deeply  stamped 
on  the  English  we  speak  and  write  to-day.  Castle, 
chivalry,  royal,  robe,  coronation,  debonair,  courtesy, 
such  stately  words  our  homelier  English  owes  to  the 
French  and  Latin.  Just  as  the  English  race  was 
improved  during  the  preparatory  period  by  its  mix- 
ture first  with  the  Celt,  and  then  with  the  partially 
Celtic  followers  of  the  Conqueror,  so  \)y  its  mixture 
with  French  the  English  language  was  made  more 
rich  and  flexible. 

Many  elements  had  thus  combined  in  this  com- 
posite England,  and  the  way  was  made  clear  for  a 
great  poet  who  could  lay  the  foundations  of  a  truly 
national  literature  and  language.  That  poet  was 
Geoffrey  Chaucer. 

STUDY  LIST 
FROM  NORMAN  CONQUEST  TO  CHAUCER 

This  period  contains  little  literature  suited  for  the  study  of 
any  but  advanced  classes.  A  few  references,  however,  are 
given  for  those  who  wish  to  gain  something  more  than  a 
second-hand  knowledge  of  the  time. 

1.  OLD  FRENCH  LITERATURE.  Specimens  of  Old  French 
(IX.-XV.  Centuries)  with  Introduction,  Notes,  and  Glossary 
by  Paget  Toynbee,  Oxford,  Clarendon  Pr2ss,  1892,  is  a  useful 
handbook  and  contains  full  bibliographical  references,  valu- 
able literary  information,  etc.  Aubertin,  Histoire  de  la 
Langue  et  de  la  Litterature  Francaise  aa  Moyen  Age;  Van 
Laun's  French  Literature,  Saintsbury's  Primer  of  French 
Literature,  Fortier's  Histoire  de  la  Litterature  Franchise. 


LITERATURE   BEFORE  CHAUCEB  67 

2.  ANGLO-LATIN  POEMS,  ETC.    Apocalypse  of  Golias  is  given 
in    translation     in    Cassell's  Library  of  English  Literature, 
Shorter  English  Poems,   edited  by   H.    Morley.     The  Latin 
Plains  Commonly  Attributed  to   Walter  Mapes,  collected  and 
edited  by  Thomas  Wright.  M.   A.,  Camden    Society,  1841, 
gives  Latin  text  and  translation  with  introduction.    Anglo. 
Latin  Satirical  Poetry    of  the    Twelfth   Century,    edited    by 
Thomas  Wright  ;  H.  Morley 's  Early  English  Prose  Romances, 
Carisbrooke  Library  (contains  seven  specimens);  Ellis'  Speci- 
mens of  Early  English  Metrical  Romances.     Old  English  BuliadJi, 
edited  by  F.  B.  Gummere  (1894),  in  Atheneum  Press  Series. 

3.  LAYAMON.     Layamon's  Brut,  or  Chronicle  of  Britain;  a 
poetical  semi-Saxon  paraphrase  of  the  Brut  of  Wace,  edited  by 
Sir  Frederic  Madden,  3  vols.,  published  by  Society  of  Anti- 
quarians, London,   1847.     Text  with  translation,  notes,  and 
grammatical    glossary.     Morley's    English   Winters,    iiL    203 
et   seq.,  includes  extract  from  the  Brut. 

4.  GESTA  ROMANORCM.    This  has  been  edited  by  Thomas 
Wright ;  it  has  also  appeared  in  Knickerbocker  Nugget  Series, 
translated  by  C.  Swan,  and  in  several  other  popular  editions. 

5.  LAWRENCE  MIXOT.     War  poems  are  given  in  Cassell's 
Library  of  English  Literature,  Shorter  English  Poems,  edited 
by  Morley. 

6.  CELTIC.    Stephen's  Literature  of  the  Kymrie  (tenth  and 
twelfth  century).     See  also  study  list,  pp.  46, 47,  supra,  Studies 
in  the  Arthurian  Legend,  by  John  Rhys,  M.  A.,  Clarendon 
Press. 

7.  HISTORY  AND  LITERATURE.    Norman  Britain,  in  Early 
Britain  Series  ;  The  Story  of  the  Normans,  by  S.  O.  Jewett 
(Story  of  the  Nations  Series);  Green's  History  of  tJie  English 
People,   vol.    i.;    Morley's  English    Writers,   vol.   iii.,   covers 
period  from  Conquest  to  Chaucer.    Freeman's  Norman  Con- 
quest,  vol.  v.  ch.  xxv.  ("  Effects  of  Norman  Conquest  on  Lan- 
guage and  Literature,"),  H.  Hall's  Court  Life  under  the  Plan- 
tagenets.    Church's    Life   of   St.   Anselm,    H.    W.   Preston's 
Troubadour  and  Trouvbre,  J  O.  Ualliwell  Phillipps'  The  Thort- 
ton  Romance* 


CHAPTER  H 

GEOFFREY  CHAUCER  (1340(7>1400^ 
CHAUCER'S  CENTURY 

To  enter  into  the  poetry  of  Chaucer,  and  to  under- 
stand how  vast  an  influence  it  had  on  the  develop- 
ment of  our  language  and  literature,  we 
Chaucer's  .          .  .          .       .     . 

England.        must  try  to  imagine  ourselves  back  in 

the  England  of  his  time.  Instead  of  the 
rich  and  well-ordered  beauty  which  in  modern  Eng- 
land bears  witness  to  centuries  of  patient  cultivation, 
we  are  in  a  land  but  partly  reclaimed  from  its 
original  wildness.  Dense  growths  of  woodland, 
the  haunt  of  the  deer,  the  gray  wolf,  the  boar,  and 
the  wild  bull,  stretch  uninterruptedly  for  miles  and 
miles.  There  are  some  seventy  of  these  great 
forests  in  Chaucer's  England,  survivals  of  the 
primeval  growth  which  had  once  almost  covered  the 
island.  In  other  places,  as  in  the  low-lying  fenland 
in  the  shires  of  Lincoln,  Cambridge,  or  Somerset,  are 
sodden  regions  of  marsh,  darkened  at  certain  seasons 
by  huge  flights  of  heron,  "trailing  it,  with  legs  and 
wings."  All  through  the  land  rises  the  solid 
masonry  of  the  Norman  castle,  the  noble  beauty  of 
cathedral  or  abbey  ;  for  the  world  is  still  feudal  and 
monastic.  In  the  open  and  fertile  places  stand  the 
manor-houses  of  the  great  proprietors,  in  the  midst 


GEOFFREY     CHAUCER 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER  69 

of  acres  of  plowland  and  pasture ;  and  huddled 
together  a  little  apart  are  the  squalid  hovels  of  the 
laborers.  Here  life  moves  within  a  fixed  and  con- 
tracted orbit,  shut  up  in  seclusion  or  held  to  a  dreary 
monotony  of  toil.  Into  such  a  life  the  traveling 
"  minstrel,"  with  his  old-time  romance  of  Arthur, 
Sir  Isembras,  or  the  Tale  of  Troy,  or  the  jongleur, 
with  his  sleight-of-hand  tricks  and  posture-making, 
brought  a  welcome  breath  of  the  great  world  without. 
The  people  themselves  find  relief  in  a  childlike 
abandonment  to  outbursts  of  boisterous  merry-mak- 
ing. Hunger,  oppression,  and  the  cruel  indifference 
of  the  great  are  heavy  on  the  poor  ;  yet  at  times,  as 
when  in  the  springtime  pent-up  youth  breaks  out 
of  the  stifling  air  of  smoky  hovels  to  do  observance 
to  May,  with  hawthorn  boughs  and  dance  and  song, 
we  feel  opr  pulses  quicken  with  the  light-hearted 
mirth  of  that  merry  England  which  lives  in  the 
buoyancy  of  Chaucer's  verse.  Again,  as  we  pass  in 
imagination  through  Chaucer's  England,  we  find  a 
hint  of  the  insecurity  of  this  mediaeval  world  in  the 
walls  that  shut  in  the  dwellers  in  the  towns  from  out- 
side danger.  At  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  near  the  Scotch 
border,  where  marauding  bands  swoop  down  as  the 
Douglas  did  against  the  Percys,  a  hundred  armed 
citizens  keep  nightly  watch  on  the  walls.  London 
itself,  except  on  the  side  toward  the  river,  is  still  a 
walled  town.  Within,  between  rows  of  low  wood- 
and-plaster  houses,  jostles  and  traffics  that  gayly 
colored  world  that  lights  up  Chaucer's  canvas.  The 
streets  are  narrow  and  unpaved,  and  foul  with  heaps 
of  refuse,  but  beyond  the  city  gates  are  lanes  leading 


70         INTBODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

out  through  fair  meadow  lands,  where  the  tender 
green  of  the  spring  grass  is  starred  by  the  daisies  that 
Master  Chaucer  loves  to  greet  and  honor.  A  stone 
bridge,  with  houses  built  on  either  side  of  its  narrow 
roadway,  connects  Chaucer's  London  with  South- 
wark,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Thames.  Here  are 
fields  and  gardens  and  the  round  wooden  buildings 
for  bearbaiting  or  cockfighting  ;  here,  near  the  end 
of  the  bridge,  is  the  old  Tabard  Inn,  in  whose  square 
courtyard  motley  companies  of  pilgrims  are  wont  to 
gather  on  their  way  to  the  shrine  of  St.  Thomas  a 
Becket,  at  Canterbury. 

But  under  this  quiet  mediaeval  garb,  we  note  on 
every  hand  the  signs  of  coming  change.  England, 
Chaucer's  ^e  the  rest  of  Europe,  was  growing 
century.  impatient  of  the  cramped  life  and  re- 
stricted thought  of  an  earlier  time  ;  she  was  already 
throbbing  with  that  new  life  which  was  to  find 
expression  in  the  Renaissance.  The  old  mediaeval 
world  yet  remained,  but  everywhere  in  the  midst  of 
its  most  characteristic  institutions  we  can  see  the 
beginning  of  the  new  order  destined  to  take  its 
place. 

Thus  chivalry,  by  which  in  the  Middle  Ages  the 
mere  barbarian  fighter  of  earlier  times  became  the 
knight,  was  at  the  height  of  its  splendor. 
auT-       Qur  grgt  great  poet  lived  and  breathed 
in  the  very  air  of  knightly  romance,  he  knew  in  his 
youth  the  dazzling  and  luxurious  court  of  the  third 
Edward,  a  king  who  delighted  in  the  display  of  tour- 
naments and  who  founded  the  Order  of  the  Garter. 
As  we  read  of  Sir  John  Chandos  and  of  Bertrand  du 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER  71 

Guesclin  in  Froissart's  Chronicles  of  the  Hundred 
Years'  War*  this  brilliant  and  lavish  reign  seems 
crowded  with  knightly  feats.  Yet,  mediaeval  as  this 
world  of  Chaucer  seems  to  us,  as  we  imagine  the 
gray  turrets  of  its  moated  castles,  the  streaming 
plumes,  the  shining  armor,  and  all  the  picturesque 
pageantry  of  its  real  or  mimic  war,  agencies  were  at 
work  undermining  the  whole  fabric  of  its  chivalry. 
Gunpowder,  first  used  in  Europe  at  the  battle  of 
Crecy  in  1346,  was  destined  to  revolutionize  the 
mode  of  warfare,  and  help  to  make  castle  and  armor 
things  of  the  past. 

In  England  new  forces  were  active  in  the  mass  of 
the  people,  which  threatened  to  change  the  whole 
order  of  society.  In  1349,  England  was  desolated  by 
a  loathsome  and  deadly  plague,  the  Black 
Death,  through  which  about  half  the 
entire  population  miserably  perished.  The  farms 
were  untilled,  the  crops  scanty,  and  famine  followed 
pestilence.  The  country  was  filled  with  vagrants 
driven  by  idleness  and  starvation  to  beggary  or  theft. 
The  organization  of  labor  was  unsettled,  and  iron 
laws  were  passed  which  made  matters  worse.  Then 
came  bitter  denunciations  and  riotous  uprisings 
against  all  those  class  distinctions  which  had  been 
accepted  almost  as  part  of  the  divinely  arranged 
order. 

John  Ball,  the  mad  priest  of  Kent,  thundered 
against  those  who  "are  clothed  in  rich  stuffs,  orna- 
mented with  ermine,  who  dwell  in  fine  houses  while 

*The  Hundred  Tears'  War  (1338-1453),  a  war  between 
France  and  England. 


72         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

we  must  brave  the  wind  and  rain  in  our  labors  in  the 
fields."  *  Our  dream  of  fourteenth  century  chivalry 
is  thus  broken  by  the  stormy  complaint  of  the  poor, 
the  prelude  of  modern  democracy. 

In  religion,  too,  the  century  is  full  of  signs  of  a 
coming  change.     The  Church  no  longer  inspired  that 

devotion  which  characterized  the  days 

of  the  earlier  crusader.  In  1309  the 
Pope  removed  from  Rome  to  Avignon,  and  the  rev- 
erence and  divinity  which  had  hedged  him  about,  as 
the  declared  "  Vicar  of  Christ  on  Earth,"  were  greatly 
lessened  when  men  saw  hirn  the  creature  of  the  grow- 
ing power  of  France.  The  multiplying  corruptions 
in  the  Church  itself,  the  sordidness  and  lack  of 
spirituality  in  its  clergy,  moved  earnest  men  to  scorn 
and  satire.  In  all  this  we  see  signs  of  the  coming 
Reformation. 

The  old  scholastic  learning  of  the  Middle  Ages  yet 
lingered  in  Chaucer's  England.     The  Oxford  Clerk, 

in    the    Canterbury    Tales,   delights   in 
Learning         Aristotle,  an  author  of  first  importance 

in  the  old  education  of  the  monastic 
schools.  Yet  a  new  learning  has  already  arisen  in 
Italy,  and  in  the  work  of  Chaucer  himself  lias  en- 
tered English  literature.  Twenty  years  before  the 
birth  of  Chaucer,  Dante — the  first  supremely  great 
poet  since  the  classic  writers — had  died  in  exile  in 
Ravenna,  leaving  for  all  time  the  expression  of  the 
soul  of  mediaeval  Christendom  in  the  Divine  Comedy. 
When  Chaucer  was  a  year  old,  Petrarch,  the  son- 
neteer of  Laura,  a  poet  and  scholar  who  was  a  great 
*  Froissart. 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER  73 

leader  in  the  new  way  of  feeling  and  thinking,  was 
crowned  with  laurel  at  Rome.  Boccaccio  was  pour- 
ing out,  in  the  prose  tales  of  his  Decamerone,  the 
world's  new  delight  in  the  beauty  and  good  things 
of  this  life. 

This  threefold  change,  which  marked  the  breaking 
up  of  the  mediaeval  and  the  beginning  of  the  modern 
•world,  expressed  itself  in  England  in  the  works  of 
three  great  writers.  The  social  movement  found  its 
mouthpiece  in  William  Langland,  1332-1400  ;  the 
new  religious  spirit  in  Wyclif,  while  the  new  learn- 
ing of  Italy  enters  into  the  verse  of  Geoffrey  Chaucer. 

The  well-nigh  hopeless  cry  of  the  people  against 
the  social  evils  and  a  corrupt  Church  goes  up  in 
the  Vision  of  Piers  Plowman,  of  Lang- 
land.  The  poet  falls  asleep  and  sees  in  "Piers 
a  vision  the  world— his  distracted  Eng-  Plowman-" 
lish  world — as  a  "  fair  field  full  of  folk."  There  are 
plowmen,  the  fruit  of  whose  toil  the  gluttons  waste ; 
men  in  rich  apparel,  chafferers,  lawyers  who  will  not 
open  their  mouths  except  for  gold,  pardoners  from 
Rome,  who  traffic  with  the  people  for  pardons,  and 
divide  with  the  parish  priest  the  silver  of  the  poor. 
The  world  makes  a  pilgrimage  to  seek  Truth,  and  finds 
a  guide  in  Piers,  a  plowman,  at  work  in  the  fields. 
He  bids  them  wait  until  he  has  finished  his  half-acre, 
then  he  will  lead  them.  "The  equality  of  all  men 
before  God,  the  gospel  of  labor — these  are  the  two 
great  doctrines  found  in  this  poem."  * 

In  religion  John  Wyclif,  by  his  fearless  attack  on 
•Green's  History  of  the  English  People,  vol.  i.  p.  442. 


74         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  ill-gotten  wealth  and  corruptions  of  the  Church, 

by  certain  of  his  religious  doctrines,  and 
Join?  'Wyclif 

by  his  translation  of  the  Bible  (1380), 

stands  as  the  greatest  mouthpiece  of  the  new  spirit 
and  the  hei'ald  of  the  Reformation.  AVyclif,  too,  by 
giving  up  the  Latin  of  the  mediaeval  schoolmen,  and 
speaking  directly  to  the  people  in  homely  English, 
shows  us  that  learning  was  ceasing  to  be  the 
exclusive  possession  of  priest  and  clerk. 

Finally,  the  new  learning  of  Italy  colors  the  verse 
of  Chaucer,  and  mingles   with   its  mediaeval  hues. 
In  his  work,  more  than  in  that  of  any 
other   writer,   this   crowded    fourteenth 
century  survives  for  us.     There,  indeed,  its  men  and 
women  breathe  and  act  before  us — alive  veritably  to- 
day beyond  the  power  of  five  centuries  of  time  and 
change. 

GEOFFREY   CHAUCEE. 1340  (?)-1400 

Our  knowledge  of  Chaucer's  life  is  meager  and 
fragmentary  ;  many  points  are  uncertain,  and  much 
left  to  conjecture.  Yet  Chaucer  is  real  to  us  through 
his  books,  and  the  little  we  do  know  of  his  life  is 
remarkably  significant  of  its  general  character. 

Geoffrey  Chaucer,  the  son  of  John  Chaucer,  a 
wine  merchant  on  Thames  Street,  was  born  in  Lon- 
don about  1340.  As  a  boy  he  learned  something 
of  the  court,  for  he  was  page  in  the  household  of 
Lionel,  Duke  of  Clarence,  the  third  son  of  Edward 
III.  As  a  youth  he  knew  something  of  war  and 
camps,  for  he  took  part  in  a  campaign  in  France  in 
1359,  probably  as  an  esquire,  was  taken  prisoner  and 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER  75 

ransomed.  Attached  to  the  court,  he  was  sent  on 
diplomatic  missions  to  various  foreign  countries.  In 
1373  he  went  to  Genoa  to  arrange  a  commercial 
treaty,  and  remained  in  Italy  about  a  year.  By  this, 
and  by  a  later  journey  to  Italy,  he  was  brought 
directly  under  the  influence  of  that  new  learning 
which  was  to  re-create  the  mind  of  Europe.  Here, 
too,  he  probably  met  Petrarch,  its  greatest  living 
representative.  Two  years  later  he  was  given  a  posi- 
tion in  the  custom  house  at  London.  In  1386  he  was 
returned  to  Parliament  as  Knight  of  the  Shire  of 
Kent,  but  in  the  same  year  lost  his  place  as  Comp- 
troller of  the  Customs,  in  the  absence  of  his  patron, 
John  of  Gaunt — the  "time-honored  Lancaster**  of 
Shakespeare's  Richard  II.  For  a  while  he  knev~ 
povert}^  bearing  it  with  characteristic  good  humor. 
On  the  accession  (1399)  of  Henry  IV.,  the  son  of  his 
former  patron,  his  fortunes  again  improved  ;  he  was 
granted  an  annuity  of  forty  marks,  but  died  on  the 
25th  of  the  October  following ;  closing  the  eyes 
which  had  seen  so  much,  in  his  quiet  home  at  West- 
minster, while  the  dawn  grows  over  Europe  and  the 
new  century  is  born. 

Little  as  we  know  of  Chaucer,  we  can  see  at  how 
many  points  he  touched  the  varied  and   brilliant  life 
of  his  time,  knowing  it  not  merely  as  an 
onlooker,   but   as    a    practical    man   of  M"0**118 
affairs,  himself  an  actor  in   its   restless 
activities.     He  was  a  man  of  the  world,  but  one  who 
added  to  the  quick  eye  and  retentive  mind  the  poet's 
tenderness  and  sympathy  with  suffering,  the  philoso- 
pher's large-minded  toleration  of  human  follies  and 


76         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

mistakes.     And   Chaucer,  like   Shakespeare,  learned 

not  only  from  life,  but  from  books.  He 
Student.  ,,  J  . 

would  return  from  his  work  at  the  cus- 
tom house  to  read  until  his  eyes  were  "dazed  and 
dull."  We  may  agree  with  Lowell  that  in  Chaucer's 
description  of  the  Oxford  Clerk  the  poet  writes  out 
of  the  fullness  of  a  personal  sympathy. 

"  For  he  hadde  geten  him  yit  no  benefice, 
Ne  was  so  worldly  for  to  have  office. 
For  him  was  levere  have  at  his  beddes  heede 
Twenty  bokes,  clad  in  blak  or  reede, 
Of  Aristotle  and  his  philosophic, 
Then  robes  riche,  orfithele  or  gay  sawtrie." 

Chaucer  the  poet  had  so  absorbed  the  tales  of  trou- 
rdre  and  Italian,  as  to  make  them  live  anew  in  his 
verse  on  English  soil.  Chaucer  the  student  trans- 
Sated  Boethius'  Consolation  of  Philosophy  and  wrote 
a  scientific  treatise  on  the  astrolabe.* 

Lover  of  men  and  lover  of  books,  Chaucer  is  no  less 
love  of  tne  lover  of  nature,  for  her  alone  delight- 
nature,  ing  to  leave  his  studies. 

"  And  as  for  me,  though  that  I  kon  but  lytee, 
On  bOkes  for  to  rede  I  me  delyte, 
And  to  heKi  yive  I  feyth  and  ful  credence 
And  in  myn  herte  have  hem  in  reverence 
So  hertfily,  that  ther  is  game  noon, 
That  fro  my  bokes  maketh  me  to  goon, 
But  yt  be  seldom  on  the  holy  day, 
Save,  certeynly,  when  that  the  moneth  of  May 

•*The  influence  of  this  study  of  Boethius  is  traceable  in 
Chaucer's  poetry  ;  r>.  ten  Brink's  English  Literature  (voJ  ii). 
For  Boethius,  v.  p.  43.  supra. 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER  77 

Is  comen,  and  that  I  here  the  foules  syuge 
And  that  the  floures  gynnen  for  to  sprynge, 
Farewel  my  boke  and  my  devocioun  !  "  * 

As  we  might  expect,  it  is  the  gayer  moods  of 
nature  in  which  Chaucer's  light-hearted  and  kindly 
temperament  finds  the  greatest  solace.  The  charac- 
teristic Chaucerian  landscape  is  glorious  in  sunshine, 
the  grass  grows  soft  and  thick  under  our  feet,  and 
the  twitter  of  birds  is  everywhere  ;  all  the  world  is 
new — washed  in  the  freshness  of  the  springtime. 

"  A  gardyn  saw  I  ful  of  blospemy  bowys 
Up-on  a  river  in  a  grene  mede, 
There  as  ther  swetnesse  everemore  i-now  is  ; 
With  flouris  white,  blewe,  and  yelwe,  and  rede. 
And  coMe  welle-stremys  no-thyng  dede, 
That  swemyn  ful  of  smale  fischis  lite, 
With  fynnys  rede  and  skalis  sylvyr  bryghte, 
On  every  bow  the  bryddis  Iierde  I  synge, 
With  voys  of  aungel  in  here  armonye ; " — f 

Not  only  in  these  more  extended  descriptions,  but 
in  many  a  casual  and  passing  allusion  there  is  that 
wholesome  and  vernal  freshness  which  fills  us  with 
an  ever  new  delight;  the  cheerful  sun  is  rising,  the 
east  laughs  with  light,  and  in  the  groves  the  silver 
drops  are  yet 

"  honging  on  the  leves."  f 
Indeed,  as  Longfellow  says: 

"He  is  the  poet  of  the  dawn,  who  wrote 
The  Canterbury  Tales,  and  his  old  age 

*  Prologue  to  Legende  of  Good  Women, 
\  The  Parlement  of  Foules. 
t  The  Knight't  Tale,  1.  638. 


78         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Made  beautiful  with  song  ;  and,  as  I  read 
I  hear  the  crowing  cock,  I  hear  the  note 
Of  lark  and  linnet,  and  from  every  page 
Rise  odors  of  plowed  field  or  flowery  mead."* 

A  love  of  the  gladness  and  beauty  of  God's  world, 
so  childlike  and  spontaneous,  rests  and  refreshes  us. 
Something  tells  us  that  the  life  of  the  poet  who  felt 
thus  was  at  heart  sound  and  good.  There  are  sacred 
depths  in  the  rare  nature  of  this  seeming  man  of  the 
world,  who  takes  what  life  sends  "  in  buxomnesse," 
who,  unlike  so  many  moderns,  makes  no  display  of 
what  he  is  and  feels.  If  we  would  get  some  hint  of 
that  side  of  Chaucer  which  was  not  "the  world's 
side,"  let  us  think  of  him  as  he  describes  himself  in 
one  of  his  poems,  going  out  alone  into  the  meadows 
in  the  stillness  of  the  early  morning  and  falling  on 
his  knees  to  greet  the  daisy. 

"  The  father  of  English  poetry  "  knew  no  English 
masters  in  his  art  to  whom  he  could  turn  for  help. 
Chaucer's  early  training  tended  to 
identify  him  with  the  life  and  literary 
standards  that  then  prevailed  at  court, 
and  there  both  Edward  III.  and  Queen  Philippa 
favored  the  language  and  literature  of  France,  even 
having  French  poets  and  "  minestrels  "  in  their 
employ.  Among  the  court  circles  the  old  literature  of 
England  had  no  place.  So  pronounced  was  this  for- 
eign  tone,  that  John  Gower  (1325(?)-1408),  though 
English  by  birth,  wrote  Ballades  and  a  poem  called  the 
Speculum  Meditantis  in  French,  apologizing  for  his 
shortcomings  in  language  "parceque  je  suis  Anglais  * 
*  Sonnet  on  Chaucer. 


GEOFFRE?  CHAUCER  79 

Chaucer's  spiritual  lineage  therefore  does  not  carry 
us  to  Caedmon  or  Cynewulf,  but  to  Guillaume  de 
Lorris,  Guillaume  de  Machault,  and  other  poets  of 
France.  His  studies  carried  him  also  to  the  Latin 
literature  of  England  during  the  preceding  cen- 
turies :  Monmouth's  History  of  Britain,  or  the 
caustio  verse  of  Walter  Map,  and  to  Vergil,  Ovid, 
and  such  other  classical  writers  as  were  commonly 
known  to  the  student  of  his  time.  The  work  of  a 
young  poet,  produced  under  such  conditions,  and 
addressed  to  a  courtly  audience,  French  by  taste  as 
by  literary  tradition,  could  hardly  fail  to  take  color 
from  such  surroundings.  Especially  in  his  early 
poems,  Chaucer  is  "an  English  trouvdre."  He 
begins  his  work  as  a  translator  or  imitator  of  the 
French.  A  French  devotional  poem  is  the  original 
of  his  A.  B.  C.;  a  famous  French  love  poem  of  his 
Romance  of  the  Rose  ;  his  Dethe  of  Blaunche  the 
Duchesse  (1369),  while  not  a  translation,  is  distinctly 
French  in  poetic  manner.  But  to  the  literary 
influences  about  Chaucer  during  the  earlier  half  of 
his  life  another  was  to  be  added.  By  his  two 
journeys  to  Italy  (1372-73,  1378-79),  the  first  under- 
taken when  he  was  about  thirty,  Chaucer  was 
brought  into  direct  and  vital  contact  with  a  mighty 
literature,  the  impact  of  which  was  from  that  time 
to  be  more  and  more  strongly  felt  on  the  intellectual 
development  of  Europe.  Hence  in  Chaucer's  later 
works  we  find  many  results  of  his  loving  study  of 
the  three  great  masters  of  this  rising  literature  of 
Italy.  Thus,  Troilus  and  Cressida,  by  far  his 
longest  poem,  is  largely  based  on  Boccaccio* 


80         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Filostrato,  The  House  of  Fame  contains  reminis- 
bences  of  Dante,  while  two  of  the  finest  of  the 
Canterbury  Tales,  those  told  by  the  Knight  and  the 
Clerk,  are  based  respectively  on  works  of  Boccaccio 
and  of  Petrarch,  "  the  laureat  poete," 

"  Whose  rhetorique  sweete 
Knlumined  al  Itaille  of  poetrie." 

But  we  must  be  careful  not  to  chink  of  Ch;.^cer 
as  a  mere  imitator  or  borrower.  The  literature 
of  the  world  belongs  to  the  supreme  poet  by  right 
of  eminent  domain.  What  a  great  poet  borrow! 
is  transformed  by  the  personality  of  his  individual 
genius.  It  it  not  merely  because  he  lived  and 
wrote  in  Engluid  that  we  think  of  Chaucer  a$ 
inherently  English,  and  feel  that  in  spirit  he  is 
akin  to  the  greatest  and  most  represental  ire  poet  of 
his  race.  Whether  he  borrowed  from  France  or  from 
Italy  he  made  a  story  his  own,  re-creating  it  and 
breathing  into  it  the  breath  of  his  own  spirit.  Like 
his  nation,  he  is  capacious  and  strong  enough  to  take 
from  others  only  to  enrich  without  destroying  his 
own  individuality.  Before  Chaucer,  there  had  been 
an  Anglo-Norman  literature,  and  the  beginning  of  a 
popular  English  literature  ;  but  no  great  poet  had 
yet  combined  the  spirit  of  the  two. 

It  is  one  of  the  glories  of  Chaucer  that  in  his  work 
so  much  is  combined  and  harmonized  for  the  first 
time.  He  has  the  Celtic  lightness  and  humor  with 
the  English  solidity  and  common  sense  ;  he  has  the 
literary  traditions  of  the  Norman  trouvere  with  the 
new  thought  of  the  Italian  ;  he  expresses  in  his  very 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCEB  81 

language  the  end  of  a  period  of  amalgamation,  and 
all  these  elements  are  made  one  by  the  power  and 
personality  of  his  genius. 

No  illustration  of  this  could  be  better  than  that 
given  by  Lowell :  "  Chaucer,  to  whom  French  must 
have  been  almost  as  truly  a  mother-tongue  as  Eng- 
lish, was  familiar  with  all  that  has  been  done  by 
troubadour  or  trouv&re.  In  him  we  see  the  first 
result  of  the  Norman  yeast  upon  the  home-baked 
Saxon  loaf.  The  flour  had  been  honest,  the  paste 
well  kneaded,  but  the  inspiring  leaven  was  wanting 
till  the  Norman  brought  it  over.  Chaucer  works  still 
in  the  solid  material  of  his  race,  but  with  what  airy 
lightness  has  he  not  infused  it  ?  Without  ceasing  to 
be  English,  he  has  escaped  from  being  insular."* 

Thus  Chaucer  in  more  than  one  way  stands  for  the 
end  of  the  period  of  preparation.  Like  his  century 
he  is  partly  of  the  Middle  Ages  and  partly  of  the 
coming  Renaissance,  partly  Norman  and  partly  Eng- 
lish ;  in  his  literary  style  as  well  as  in  his  mixed 
language  reminding  us  that  he  expresses  the  union  of 
what  had  been  separate  elements,  and  that  he  is  both 
the  end  of  an  old  order  and  the  beginning  of  a  new. 

THE  "CANTERBURY  TALES" 

The  latest  and  most  famous  work  of  Chaucer  is  a 
collection  of  separate  stories,  supposed  to  be  told  by 
pilgrims  who  agree  to  journey  in  com- 
pany   to    the    tomb  of  St.   Thomas  a  Jhe  "jp?1*"- 

,    bury  Tales." 
isecket   at   Canterbury.      In   a   general 

*  Essay  on  "  Chaucer  "  in  My  Study  Windows,  by  J.  R.  Lowefl. 


82          ENTBODUCTION   TO  ENGLISH  LITEEATUKE 

prologue  we  are  told  how  these  pilgrims  met  at  the 
Tabard  Inn  in  Southwark,  the  district  opposite  to 
London  on  the  other  side  of  the  Thames  ;  how  they 
agreed  to  be  fellow-travelers  ;  how  the  jolly  inn- 
keeper, "Harry  Bailly,"  proposed  that  each  pilgrim 
should  tell  two  tales  on  the  way  to  Canterbury  and 
two  returning.  There  are,  by  way  of  interlude,  pro- 
logues to  the  several  stories  thus  told,  which  bind  the 
whole  series  more  firmly  together  and  recall  to  us 
the  general  design.  The  idea  of  stringing  distinct 
stories  on  some  thread  of  connection  is  not  an 
uncommon  one.  Shortly  before  Chaucer,  Boccaccio 
had  written  his  Decameronc,  a  collection  of  stories 
linked  together  by  a  very  simple  expedient.  In  it  a 
number  of  gay  lords  and  ladies  leave  Florence  dur- 
ing the  plague,  and,  sitting  together  in  a  beautiful 
garden,  they  amuse  themselves  by  telling  the  tales 
that  form  the  main  part  of  the  work.  If  Chaucer, 
as  many  suppose,  found  the  suggestion  for  the  plan 
of  the  Canterbury  Tales  in  the  Decamerone,  there  is 
no  doubt  that  he  greatly  improved  on  his  original. 
Chaucer's  work  is  founded  on  a  pilgrimage,  one  of 
the  characteristic  and  familiar  features  of  the  life  of 
the  time.  With  rare  tact  he  has  selected  one  of  the 
few  occasions  which  brought  together  in  temporary 
good-fellowship  men  and  women  of  different  classes 
and  occupations.  He  is  thus  able  to  paint  the  mov- 
ing life  of  the  world  about  him  in  all  its  breadth  and 
variety  ;  he  can  give  to  stories  told  by  such  chance- 
assorted  companions  a  dramatic  character  and  con- 
trast, making  knight,  priest,  or  miller  reveal  himself 
in  what  he  relates 


GBOFFRST    OHACCEB  s$3 

The  chief  interest  of  the  Prologue  lies  in  the  fresh- 
ness and  truth  with  which  eacli  member  of  the  little 
party  of  pilgrims  is  set  before  us.  As  one  after 
another  of  that  immortal  procession  passes  by,  the 
intervening  centuries  are  forgotten,  the  world  about 
us  recedes,  and  we  ourselves  seem  fourteenth  century 
pilgrims  riding  with  the  rest.  It  is  a  morning  in  the 
middle  of  April  as  we  with  the  jolly  company,  thirty 
in  all,  with  our  host  of  the  Tabard,  Harry  Bailly,  as 
"  governour,"  pass  out  of  the  square  courtyard  of 
the  inn  and  take  the  highroad  toward  Canterbury. 
The  freshness  of  the  spring  is  all  about  us  ;  showers 
and  sunshine  and  soft  winds  have  made  the  budding 
world  beautiful  in  tender  green,  and  the  joy  of  the 
sweet  season  in  the  hearts  of  innumerable  birds 
makes  them  put  their  gladness  into  song.  This  time, 
when  the  sap  mounts  in  the  trees,  and  the  world  is 
new-charged  with  the  love  of  life,  fills  us  with  rest- 
less desires  and  the  spirit  of  adventure. 

"  Thanne  longen  folk  to  gon  on  pilgrimages." 

Our  little  company  is  a  strange  mixture,  men  and 
women  of  many  sorts  and  conditions.  By  traveling 
thus  banded  together  the  danger  of  attacks  from 
highway  robbers  was  lessened,  and  the  holiday 
humor  promoted  by  companionship.  There  rides  a 
Knight,  a  good  type  of  all  that  is  best  in  the  chivalry 
of  the  time,  who  has  fought  bravely  in  fifteen  mor- 
tal battles.  His  hauberk  is  stained,  for  he  has  just 
returned  from  a  voyage  ;  even  the  trappings  of  his 
horse  are  plain.  In  his  bearing  he  is  as  meek  as  a 
maid.  His  son  is  with  him,  a  gay  young  Squire,  with 


84         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

curled  locks.  He  is  a  boy  of  twenty,  overflowing 
with  life  and  happiness,  splendid  in  apparel,  and 
expert  in  graceful  accomplishments. 

"  Embrowded  was  he,  as  it  were  a  mede 
Al  ful  of  fresshe  floures,  white  and  reede. 
Syngynge  he  was,  or  floytynge,  al  the  day 
He  was  as  fresshe  as  is  the  moneth  of  May." 

After  the  Knight  and  the  Squire  rides  their  attendant, 
clad  in  the  green  of  the  forester.  He  is  the  English 
Yeoman,  type  of  those  archers  whose  deadly  "  gray 
goose  shafts  "  broke  the  shining  ranks  of  knighthood 
at  Cre"9y  and  IPoictiers.*  A  very  different  figure  is 
Madame  Eglantyne,  a  coy  and  smiling  Prioress,  a 
teacher  of  young  ladies,  whose  table  manners  are  a 
model  of  deportment,  whose  French  smacks  of  the 
"  school  of  Stratford  atte  Bowe."  She  is  so  sensitive 
that  she  weeps  to  see  a  mouse  caught  in  a  trap. 
Though  pleasant  and  amiable,  she  affects  court  man- 
ners, and  holds  herself  on  her  dignity  that  people 
may  stand  in  awe  of  her.  There  ambles  the  rich, 
pleasure-loving  Monk,  with  his  greyhounds  ;  one  of 
those  new-fashioned  churchmen  of  the  day  who  have 
given  up  the  strict  monastic  rule  of  an  earlier  time. 
He  cares  neither  for  learning  nor  to  work  with  his 
hands,  but  delights  in  hunting. 

The  corruption  of  the  Church  is  also  to  be  seen  in 
the  next  pilgrim,  a  brawny,  jolly  Friar,  licensed  to 
beg  within  a  prescribed  district.  In  the  thirteenth 
century  the  friars,  or  brothers,  had  done  great  good 

*  The  passage  on  the  Bow,  in  Green's  History  of  the  English 
People  vol.  i.  p.  421,  may  be  read  in  class. 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER  85 

in  England,  but  by  Chaucer's  time  they  had  grown 
nch  and  had  forgotten  the  high  purposes  for  which 
the  order  was  founded.  The  Friar  has  no  threadbare 
scholar's  dress  ;  his  short  cloak  is  of  double  worsted. 
His  cowl  is  stuffed  with  knives  and  pins,  for  he  is  a 
peddler,  like  many  of  his  order.* 

"  Ful  sweetely  herde  he  confessioun. 
And  plesaunt  was  his  absolucioun  ; 
lie  was  an  esy  man  to  yeve  penaunee 
Ther  as  he  wiste  ban  a  good  pitaunce." 

After  the  Merchant,  sitting  high  on  his  horse,  and 
always  solemnly  talking  of  his  gains,  comes  the  Clerk 
with  his  lean  horse,  and  threadbare  cloak.  He  is  a 
philosopher,  he  has  not  prospered  in  the  world, 

"  For  he  hadde  geten  him  yit  no  benefice 
Ne  was  so  worldly  as  to  have  office." 

Then  the  Sergeant-at-Law,  who  seems  always 
busier  than  he  is  ;  the  Franklin,  or  farmer,  with  his 
red  face  and  beard  white  as  a  daisy  ;  he  keeps  open 
house,  the  table  standing  always  covered  in  his  hos- 
pitable hall.f 

Various  occupations  are  represented  by  the  Haber- 

*  Wyclif  writes  01  the  friars:  "They  become  peddlers, 
bearing  knives,  purses,  pins,  and  girdles,  and  spices,  and  silk, 
and  precious  pellure,  and  fouris  for  women,  and  thereto  small 
dogs."  (Quoted  in  Jusserand's  English  Wayfaring  Life,  p.  304.) 

f  The  Franklin  held  his  land  directly  from  the  King  and 
free  of  feudal  service.  In  the  fourteenth  century  the  dining 
tables  were  usually  boards  placed  on  trestles,  and  were  taken 
away  after  each  meal.  The  Franklin's  was  "dormant  "  t.  e., 
permanent.  See  Wright's  History  of  Domestic  Manners  and 
Sentiments  in  England,  p.  139. 


06          INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

dasher,  the  Dyer,  the  Tapicer,  or  dealer  in  carpets 
and  rugs,  the  Cook,  who  can  "  roste  and  sethe,  and 
boille  and  fry  "  and  make  "  blankmanger  n  with  the 
beet.  The  weather-beaten  Shipman,  w«hose  beard  has 
been  shaken  by  many  a  tempest,  seems  not  quite  at 
ease  on  horseback.  The  Doctor  of  Physic  is  a  learned 
and  successful  practitioner,  who  knows  the  literature 
of  his  profession,  and  studies  the  Bible  but  little. 
He  keeps  all  the  gold  he  made  in  the  pestilence. 

"For  gold  in  physic  is  a  cordial 
Therfor  he  lovede  gold  in  special." 

Among  all  there  is  the  buxom,  dashing  Wife  of 
Bath,  gayly  dressed,  with  scarlet  stockings,  new  shoes, 
and  a  hat  as  broad  as  a  shield,  and,  in  sharp  contrast, 
the  Parish  Priest,  the  "poure  persoun  of  a  town," 
reminding  us  that,  in  spite  of  luxurious  monks  and 
cheating  friars,  the  Church  was  not  wholly  corrupt. 

"  Benigne  he  was,  and  wonder  diligent, 
And  in  adversitee  ful  pacient. 

"  He  waiteth  after  no  pompe  and  reverence, 
Ne  maked  him  a  spiced  conscience, 
But  Cristes  lore,  and  his  Apostles  twelve, 
He  taughte,  but  first  he  folwed  it  him-selve.** 

But  we  must  hurry  to  the  end  o  this  representa- 
tive company  :  the  party  is  made  up  by  the  Plow- 
man,  the  Reeve,  or  steward,  the  Miller,  who  carries  a 
bagpipe,  the  Summoner,  an  officer  of  the  Law  Courts, 
the  Pardoner,  or  seller  of  indulgences,  his  wallet  full 
of  pardons,  the  Manciple,  or  caterer  for  a  college,  and 


GEOFFREY  CHA.GCEB  87 

last,  the  Poet  himself,  noting  with  twinkling  eyes 
every  trick  of  costume,  and  looking  through  all  to 
the  soul  beneath. 

In  this  truly  wonderful  group  the  moving  and  varied 
life  of  Chaucer's  England  survives  in  all  its  bloom  and 
\  freshness,  in  the  vital  power  of  its  intense  humanity. 
The  man  who  could  so  fix  for  all  time  the  "  form  and 
pressure  "  of  his  age  must  have  looked  at  the  world 
with  wide  open  and  clear-seeing  eyes.  Student  of 
books  as  he  was,  and  teller  of  old  tales,  we  see  here 
and  elsewhere  the  shrewd  observer  and  interpreter 
of  life  and  character,  the  man  with  the  poet's  gift  of 
fresh  and  independent  vision.  As  we  have  said,  the 
several  stories  in  the  Canterbury  Tales  are  dramatic 
studies,  as  well  as  masterpieces  of  narrative,  as  each 
narrator  unconsciously  reveals  something  of  his  own 
character  in  the  tale  he  tells.  Thus  the  "  Knight's 
Tale  "  is  steeped  in  the  golden  atmosphere  of  chivalry. 
Theseus,  journeying  homeward  with  his  bride,  Hip- 
polyta,  leaves  her  as  a  true  knight  should  to  cham- 
pion the  cause  of  woman  in  distress.  The  whole 
story  revolves  about  the  supreme  power  of  love,  a 
doctrine  dear  to  the  heart  of  mediaeval  chivalry. 

"  Wostow  nat  wel  the  olde  clerkes  sawe, 
That  who  shal  yeve  a  lovere  any  lawe  ? 
Love  is  a  gretter  lawe,  by  my  pan, 
Than  may  be  yeve  to  eny  erthly  mau."  * 

At  the  call  of  this  great  and  mighty  god  of  love, 
the  life-iong  friendship  and  affection  of  Palamon  and 
Arcite  are  changed  in  an  instant  to  rivalry  and  hatred, 

*"  Knight's  Tale,"  1.  305,  etc. 


88         DTTBODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LTTERATUKE 

the  solemn  oaths  which  bind  them  to  each  other 
unhesitatingly  disregarded.  In  the  tournament  the 
devotee  of  Venus  is  made  to  triumph  over  the 
devotee  of  Mars.  The  story  is  rich  and  glorious  in 
chivalric  blazonry  ;  the  gorgeous  description  of  the 
tournament  sparkles  and  glitters  with  the  luster  of 
that  knightly  and  romantic  world.  Yet  by  the  very 
source  of  this  story  we  are  reminded  that  Chaucer 
touched  the  new  world  of  the  Renaissance,  as  well 
as  the  vanishing  world  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the 
luxurious  beauty  of  the  description  of  the  temple  of 
Venus  seems  to  breathe  the  spirit  of  beautiful  and 
pagan  Italy,  which  was  to  find  its  English  reflex  in 
the  delicious  verse  of  the  Faerie  Queene.  The  Knight 
takes  us  into  his  world  of  the  gentles  ;  so  the  drunken 
Miller,  a  consummate  example  of  obtuse  vulgarity, 
brutally  strong  and  big  of  brawn  and  bones,  inci- 
dentally acquaints  us  with  life  as  he  knows  it,  while 
the  dainty  Prioress,  speaking  from  her  sheltered  nook  I 
of  pious  meditation,  tells  her  tender  story  of  a  t 
miracle,  and,  as  we  listen,  we  seem  to  hear  the  clear, 
young  voice  of  the  martyred  child  ring  out  fresh  and 
strong.  Among  the  most  beautiful  of  the  tales  are 
those  told  by  the  Clerk  and  the  Man  of  Law,  two 
stories  that  in  some  respects  may  be  placed  together. 
Both  reveal  Chaucer's  deep  reserve  of  gentleness  and 
compassion  ;  both  reveal  his  reverential  love  of  good- 
ness ;  both  bring  before  us,  as  the  central  figure,  a 
patient  and  holy  woman,  unjustly  treated  and  bear- 
ing all  wrongs  and  griefs  with  meek  submission.  In 
the  "  Clerk's  Tale  "  the  unselfishness  and  wifely  sub- 
toission  of  Griselda  is  placed  in  sharp  contrast  with 


GEOFFBEY  CHAUCER  89 

the  selfishness  of  her  husband.  The  one  gives  her- 
telf  up  first  to  her  father  and  then  to  her  husband, 
making  her  bed  "  ful  harde  and  no  thing  softe  "  ;  the 
other  gives  himself  ovxjr  wholly  to  present  self- 
indulgence,  even  hesitating  to  take  a  wife  because  he 
rejoices  in  his  liberty  that 

"  Seelde  tyme  is  found  in  marriage." 

When  two  such  natures  are  brought  together,  the 
more  unselfishness  yields — the  more  selfishness  takes. 
The  ideal  of  womanhood  revealed  in  Griselda  is 
eminently  mediaeval,  and  Chaucer  admits  that  he 
does  not  expect  women  of  his  time  to  follow  her 
humility,  adding  that  he  tells  us  the  story  to  show 

that 

"Every  wight  in  his  degree 
Sholde  be  constant  in  adversitie, 
As  was  Griselde." 

Fortitude  may  likewise  be  taken  as  the  patron 
virtue  of  the  lawyer's  tale,  as  indeed  the  name  of 
the  heroine,  Constance,  seems  to  imply.  But  the 
story  also  shows  the  divine  care  of  innocence  in 
adversity.  Over  and  over  again  is  Constance  placed 
in  peril,  only  to  be  rescued  by  the  Divine  hand.  She 
stands  on  the  seashore,  betrayed  and  about  to  be  set 
adrift  with  her  newborn  child.  Even  in  the  face  of 
this  deadly  peril  her  faith  remains  unshaken : 

"  He  that  me  kepte  fro  the  false  blame 
While  I  was  on  the  lond  amonges  yow, 
He  kan  me  kepe  from  harm,  and  eek  fro  shame, 
In  salte  see,  al  thogh  I  see  noght  how 
As  strong  as  evere  he  was  he  is  yet  now. 


90         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

"  Her  litel  child  lay  wepyng  in  her  arm, 
And  knelynge,  pitously  to  hym  she  seyde, 
'  Pees,  litel  sone,  I  wol  do  thee  non  harm ! ' 
With  that  hir  kerchef  of  hir  heed  she  breyde, 
And  over  hise  litel  eyen  she  it  leyde, 
And  in  hir  arm  she  lulleth  it  ful  faste, 
And  in-to  hevene  hire  eyen  up  she  caste."* 

Words  cannot  be  more  simple  or  more  tender,  nor 
pathos  more  profound.  We  see  all  as  in  a  picture  : 
The  sobbing  country  people  crowding  about  the  fair 
woman  kneeling  in  their  midst ;  the  sacred  beauty 
of  motherhood,  of  suffering,  of  heroic  faith  ;  the 
boat  ready  at  the  water's  edge,  and,  in  melancholy 
perspective,  the  receding  background  of  the  waiting 
sea.  In  such  passages  we  feel  the  truth  of  Mrs. 
Browning's  words  : 

"  Chaucer,  with  his  infantine 
Familiar  grasp  of  things  divine."f 

The  "  Man  of  Lawe's  Tale "  may  be  set  beside 
Milton's  Comus  as  the  story  of  that  virtue  which 
can  be  "  assailed,  but  never  hurt."  "  Great  are  the 
perils  of  the  righteous,  but  the  Lord  delivereth  him 
out  of  all ;"  this  may  be  said  to  be  the  text  of  the 
story  of  Constance.  Yet,  even  the  true  joys  of  the 
righteous  are  not  temporal,  but  eternal,  and  Chaucer 
continually  pauses  to  remind  us  of  the  shortness  of 
earthly  happiness. 

"  Upon  thy  glade  day  have  in  thy  mynde 
The  unwar  wo  or  harm  that  cometh  behynde."  J 

*  "  Man  of  Lawe's  Tale." 

f  Mrs.  Browning's  Vision  of  Poets. 

i"Man  of  Lawe's  Tale." 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER  91 

Constance  is  at  last  reunited  to  her  husband,  but 
he  only  lives  a  year  after  the  union. 

"  Joye  of  this  world  for  tyme  wol  nat  abyde, 
Fro  day  to  night  it  changeth  as  the  tyde."* 

In  Chaucer's  work  we  see  the  expression  of  a 
rounded  life,  an  equable  and  well-developed  character 
that  knew  and  loved  men,  books,  and  nature.  Like 
Shakespeare,  Chaucer  seems  to  have  been  able  to 
keep  in  just  balance  the  ideal  and  the  practical,  able 
to  combine  the  student  and  the  dreamer  with  the 
successful  ability  of  a  man  of  affairs.  There  shines 
through  Chaucer's  poems  that  element  of  the  highest 
achievement — personal  greatness  of  character.  He 
is  truthful,  putting  down  honestly  and  naturally 
what  he  sees  ;  he  can  enjoy  life  almost  with  the 
frank  delight  of  a  child,  capable  of  laughter  without 
malice  ;  and  boisterous  or  coarse  as  he  may  some- 
times seem,  he  is  at  heart  surpassingly  gentle  and 
compassionate.  If  such  figures  as  the  Wife  of  Bath 
flaunt  themselves  through  his  pages  with  noisy 
laughter  and  flaring  garments,  in  them  are  also  to  be 
found  the  very  flower  of  a  pure  and  noble  woman- 
hood. Few  poets  are  so  loving  to  little  children, 
few  so  far  from  bitter  or  morbid  complainings,  ready 
to  face  what  life  sends  with  a  cheerful  and  manly 
courage. 

"  That  thee  is  sent  receyve  in  buxomnesse, 
The  wrastling  of  this  world  asketh  a  fal ; 
Here  is  no  hoom,  here  is  but  wildernesse. 

*  "  Man  of  Lawe's  Tale." 


99         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Forth,  pilgrim,  forth  !  forth  best,  out  of  thy  stal  1 
Look  upon  hye,  and  thonke  God  of  al ; 
Weyve  thy  lust,  and  let  thy  gost  thee  lede, 
And  trouthe  shal  thee  delyver,  hit  is  no  drede."  * 

Finally,  in  his  grasp  of  human  life  and  in  his 
handling  of  a  story,  Chaucer  shows  a  dramatic  power 
which,  had  he  lived  in  a  play-writing  age,  would 
have  placed  him  among  the  greatest  dramatists  of  all 
time. 

But  with  all  this  breadth,  there  are  certain  ele- 
ments in  Chaucer's  England  that  find  no  utterance  in 
his  works.  Men  and  women  of  many 

Poet  of  the     conditions  are  indeed  found  there,  from 

court. 

the  knight  to  the  miller  and  the  plow- 
man, and  all  are  pictured  with  the  same  vividness 
and  truth  ;  but  breadth  of  observation  is  not  of 
necessity  breadth  of  sympathy.  Nowhere  does  he 
show  us  the  England  of  Langland,  with  its  plague, 
pestilence,  and  famine,  its  fierce  indignation  flaming 
up  into  wild  outbursts  of  socialism.f  We  may  sup- 
pose Chaucer's  ideal  plowman  to  have  been  after  the 
pattern  of  the  one  he  describes  in  the  Canterbury 

Tales: 

"  A  trewe  swinker  and  a  good  was  he 
Lyvynge  in  pees  and  perflght  charitee."  J 

Chaucer  was  the  poet  of  the  court,  the  poet  of 
those  who  dwelt  in  fine  houses  clad  in  rich  stuffs,  not 
of  those  who  hungered  in  rain  and  cold  in  the  fields. 

*  Good  Counseil. 

tSee  "The  Pilgrim  and  the  Ploughman"  in  Palgrave'i 
Vifiont  of  England. 
t  Prologue  to  Canterbury  Tales. 


GEOFFBEY  CHAUCEB  93 

He  was  the  outcome  and  voice  of  the  spirit  of  chiv- 
alry, in  its  class  distinctions  and  exclusiveness  as  well 
as  its  splendor. 

His  easy-going  nature  has  no  touch  in  it  of  the 

reformer,  the  martyr,  or  the  fanatic.     He  is  above  all 

/lovable  and  companionable,  not  withdrawn   in  the 

I  stern  isolation  of  the  highest  souls,  alone  and  awful 

on   the  mountain   summit   wrapped  in  clouds.     He 

rather  dwells  at  his  ease  at  the  base,  in  the  broad, 

sunshiny  world   of    green    fields    and    merry  jests, 

and   if   the   heights  and  the  depths  in   Dante   and 

Shakespeare  were  beyond  him,  we  should  be  thankful 

for  all  we  gain  in  his  genial  and  manly  company. 

STUDY   LIST 
CHA  UCER  AND  HIS  TIME 

1.  CHAUCER'S  WORKS.  The  following  poems  are  sug- 
gested for  beginners  in  Chaucer,  as  fairly  representative,  and 
as  suitable  for  introductory  study  : 

a.  Prologue  to  Canterbury  Tales.  This  is,  perhaps,  the  most 
familiar  of  Chaucer's  works.  It  is  unique  as  a  contemporary 
study  of  English  life  in  the  fourteenth  century,  and  has  great 
historic  as  well  as  poetic  value.  It  shows  Chaucer,  as  student 
and  observer  of  humanity,  at  his  best.  Saunders'  Canterbury 
Tales  gives  interesting  comments  on  the  various  pilgrims, 
together  with  pictures  of  each  taken  from  the  Ellesmere 
MS.  It  is  superfluous  to  speak  here  of  the  poetic  charm  and 
dramatic  force  of  the  "  Prologue,"  but  to  appreciate  it  as  a 
work  of  art  should,  of  course,  be  the  first  consideration  with 
the  student  of  literature.  It  may  also  be  profitably  studied  h? 
connection  with  the  contemporary  social,  political,  and  relK 
gious  life.  Note  especially,  under  this,  condition  of  the 
Church ;  position  and  work  of  Wyclif ;  of.  opening  of  Lang 
land's  vision  of  Piers  Plowman ;  the  attitude  of  Lan£jland, 


94         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEEATUBE 

Chaucer,  and  Wyclif  toward  religion,  etc.,  etc.     [For  refer- 
ences  on  this  point  see  present  list,  sections  3  and  4.] 

b.  The  Knight's  Tale.  This  story  is  one  of  those  that 
shows  the  influence  of  Italy.  It  is  the  longest  of  the  Canter- 
bury Tales  and  the  most  gorgeous  in  coloring.  It  is  founded 
on  the  Teseide  of  Boccaccio,  but  departs  from  it  in  some  par- 
ticulars. "  The  Teseide  contains  9054  lines,  the  "  Knight's  Tale  " 
2050,  of  which  only  about  270  are  translated  from  the  Italian 
and  another  500  adapted.  So  that  Chaucer  left  himself  free 
play."  (Pollard's  Chaucer,  116.)  It  is  probably  the  recast  of 
an  earlier  poem,  containing  "al  the  love  of  Palamon  and 
Arcite,"  alluded  to  in  Chaucer's  list  of  his  works  in  the 
Legende  of  Good  Women.  The  action  of  the  poem  is  nomi- 
nally laid  in  the  heroic  age  of  Greece  (look  up  "  Theseus  "  in 
Smith's  Dictionary  of  Greek  and  Roman  Biography  and 
Mythology,  or  some  Greek  history),  but  in  tone  and  setting  it  is 
consistently  mediaeval  and  romantic.  "Chaucer's  whole  story 
["  Knight's  Tale  "]  breathes  the  atmosphere  of  a  romantic  tale  ; 
the  whole  action  of  all  the  participating  personages  belongs  to 
a  world  which  is  composed  of  very  different  elements — antique, 
Byzantine,  mediaeval — and  which  is,  in  an  educational  and 
historical  sense,  full  of  gross  anachronisms,  but  which  bears, 
nevertheless,  a  uniform  poetic  impress,  viz.,  the  impress  of  a 
fantastic  period  of  the  Renaissance."  (Ten  Brink's  English 
Literature,  vol.  ii.  p.  68.)  As  preliminary,  study  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  Knight  given  in  the  "Prologue,"  and  the  conclusion 
of  the  "  Prologue,"  which  explains  how  the  Knight  came  to  tell 
the  first  story.  The  tale  opens  with  Theseus'  return  from  his 
expedition  against  the  Amazons,  he  having  wedded  Ypolita 
(or  Antiope),  then  queen.  In  what  one  of  Shakespeare's  plays 
does  Theseus  appear  under  the  same  circumstances  ?  Cf. 
Shakespeare's  and  Chaucer's  treatment.  Is  there  any  similar 
thought  or  motive  running  through  this  play  and  the  "  Knight's 
Tale  "  ?  If  so,  compare  or  contrast  the  two  works  on  this  basis. 
More  direct  use  is  made  of  the  "  Knight's  Tale  "  in  The  Two 
Noble  Kinsmen,  attributed  to  Shakespeare  and  Fletcher,  which 
may  also  be  compared.  Note  reference  to  Chaucer  in  "  Pro- 
logue "  to  this  play ;  v.  alsn  introduction  to  play  in  Rolfe's  ed* 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER  95 

Hon.  Why  is  the  Knight  selected  by  Chaucer  to  tell  this  par- 
ticular  story,  rather  than  one  of  the  other  pilgrims  ?  "What  is 
the  most  powerful  motive  of  action  in  Palamon  and  Arcite  ? 
With  what  opposing  obligations,  or  inclinations,  does  this 
motive  conflict  ?  How  is  its  supremacy  shown  ?  Why  is  it 
more  consistent  with  the  plot  that  Palamon,  rather  than  Arcite, 
should  marry  Emily  ?  Collect  all  the  passages  in  which 
Chaucer  dwells  on  the  irresistible  power  of  the  motive  of 
action  above  referred  to,  and  state  from  them  the  leading  idea 
in  the  poem.  Is  this  leading  idea  characteristic  of  the  Middle 
Ages  or  of  the  Renaissance  ?  What  gives  the  poem  its  unity  ? 
In  what  way  does  the  ultimate  success  of  Palamon  illustrate 
this  central  idea  and  harmonize  with  the  unity  of  the  poem  ? 
Note  characteristic  beauty  of  description  of  Emily  walking 
in  the  garden,  gorgeousness  of  description  of  the  three  tem- 
ples. "  The  description  of  the  temple  of  Mars  is  particularly 
interesting,  as  proving  that  Chaucer  possessed  a  power  of 
treating  the  grand  and  terrible  of  which  no  modern  poet 
but  Dante  had  yet  given  an  example."  (Marsh,  Origin  and 
History  of  the  English  Language,  p.  423.)  Note,  also,  descrip- 
tion of  tournament.  Can  you  recall  any  passages  in  later 
English  poetry  comparable  to  description  of  paintings  in 
Temple  of  Venus  ?  Note  lavish  Renaissance  character  of 
description  of  statue  of  Venus,  and  cf.  passages  showing  the 
same  spirit  in  Spenser's  Faerie  Queen*.  For  "  Knight's  Tale  " 
«.  Morris'  Chaucer's  "  Prologue  and  Knight's  Tale,"  Saun- 
ders'  Canterbury  Tales,  ten  Brink's  English  Literature,  vol.  ii. 
c.  The  Clerk's  Tale.  This  story  also  illustrates  Italian  influ- 
ence on  Chaucer.  It  is  taken  from  Petrarch's  De  Obedientia  et 
Fide  Uxoria  MytJiohgica,  and  is  in  places  an  almost  word  for 
word  translation.  The  story  is  an  old  one,  and  was  once 
a  great  favorite  (Petrarch  said  that  no  one  had  been  able  to 
read  it  in  the  Decamerone  without  tears),  but  the  character  of 
Griselda  is  so  entirely  a  product  of  past  social  conditions  that 
it  is  quite  out  of  keeping  with  our  modern  ideas.  Petrarch 
took  his  version  of  the  story  from  Boccaccio's  Decamer^nt, 
translating  it  from  Italian  into  Latin.  Chaucer  tells  us  in  the 
prologue  to  the  Tale,  that  he  learned  it  of  Petrarch,  and  it 


96         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

fa,  therefore,  probably  a  direct  outcome  of  Chaucer's  first 
journey  to  Italy.  "We  may  conjecture,"  says  Professor 
Skeat,  "  that  Chaucer  and  Petrarch  met  at  Padua  early  in 
1373  ;  that  Petrarch  told  Chaucer  the  story  by  word  of  mouth, 
either  iu  Italian  or  French  ;  and  that  Chaucer  shortly  after 
obtained  a  copy  of  Petrarch's  Latin  version,  which  he  kept 
constantly  before  him  whilst  making  his  own  translation." 
(Introduction  to  Chaucer's'  "  Prioress's  Tale,"  etc.,  Clarendon 
Press). 

Read,  first,  description  of  Clerk  in  general  '•  Prologue,"  and 
"  Prologue  "  to  "  Clerk's  Tale."  [Note  meaning  of  Clerk  ;  «. 
derivation  in  Skeat's  Etymological  Dictionary.  ' '  A  learned 
man  ;  .  .  .  a  scholar  ;  .  .  .  originally  a  man  who  could  read, 
an  attainment  at  one  time  confined  chiefly  to  ecclesiastics 
[Archaic],"  (Century  Dictionary.')  In  prologue  to  "  Clerk's 
Tale,"  Petrarch  is  spoken  of  as  a  "  worthy  clerk."] 

In  this  tales  we  have  fine  instances  of  character  contrast  in 
Walter  and  Griselda.  Study  these  two  characters  separately, 
and  note  the  skill  with  which  they  are  placed  in  opposition. 
The  character  of  Griselda  is  one  that  we  find  it  difficult  to  do 
justice  to.  We  must  remember,  however,  that  the  story 
belongs  to  the  Middle  Ages,  and  that  the  feudal  state  of 
society  and  the  position  of  women  at  that  time  must  be  taken 
into  account.  Griselda  is  bound  to  obey,  first,  because  she  is 
the  daughter  of  Walter's  vassal  ;  second,  because  she  is 
"Walter's  wife,  and  in  those  days  the  wife's  promise  to 
"  honor  and  obey  "  was  strictly  construed  ;  third,  because  she 
has  taken  a  solemn  additional  oath  to  do  her  husband's 
will  in  every  case  without  grudging  (v.  1.  345,  etc).  More- 
over, resistance  in  Griselda's  case  would  probably  mean  rebel- 
lion against  lawfully  constituted  authority,  without  any  reason- 
obit  disince  of  success.  The  following  anecdote,  taken  by 
Thomas  Wright  from  an  old  French  writer,  whose  book  is  a 
product  of  mediaeval  chivalry,  helps  to  dispel  rose-colored 
ideas,  and  illuminates  the  real  position  of  women  at  that  time  : 
("The  Chevalier  de  la  Tour  Landy  tells  his  daughter  the 
Story  of  a  woman  who  was  in  the  habit  of  contradicting  her 
husband  in  public,  and  replying  to  him  ungraciously,  for 


GEOFFBEY  CHAUCER  97 

which,  after  the  husband  had  expostulated  in  vain,  he  one 
day  raised  his  fist  and  knocked  her  down,  and  kicked  her  in 
the  face  while  she  was  down,  and  broke  her  nose.  'And  so,' 
says  the  knightly  instructor,  '  she  was  disfigured  for  life,  and 
thus,  through  her  ill-fortune  and  bad  temper,  she  had  her 
nose  spoiled,  which  was  a  great  misfortune  to  her.  It  would 
have  been  better  for  her  to  have  been  silent  and  submissive, 
for  it  ie  only  right  that  words  of  authority  should  belong  to 
her  lord,  and  the  wife's  honor  requires  that  she  should  listen 
in  peace  and  obedience.'  The  good  '  chevalier '  makes  no 
remark  on  the  husband's  brutality,  as  though  it  were  by  no 
means  an  unusual  occurrence."  (Domestic,  Manners  and  Senti- 
ments in  England  during  the  Middle  Ages,  p.  275). 

Boccaccio  implies  that  the  moral  of  the  story  is  that  virtue 
can  be  found  in  all  conditions  of  life.  "  What  can  we  say 
then  ?  but  that  divine  spirits  may  descend  from  heaven  into 
the  meanest  cottages,  whilst  royal  palaces  shall  produce 
such  as  seem  rather  adapted  to  have  the  care  of  hogs  than 
the  government  of  men."  (Decamerone,  Novel  X.).  What 
does  Chaucer  tell  us  is  his  moral  ?  What  further  treatment 
has  the  story  of  Griselda  received  in  English  literature  ? 
Name  a  ballad  and  a  play  on  this  subject. 

d.  The  Man  of  Lawe's  Tale. 

e.  The  Nonne  Prestes  Tale. 

f.  Good  Counseil. — Complaint  to  my  Purse.  V.  also  extracts 
from  longer  poems  in  Ward's  English  Poets. 

2.  EDITIONS  OP  CHAUCER.  For  those  poems  contained  in 
it,  the  edition  in  Clarendon  Press  Series,  edited  by  Morris  and 
Skeat,  is  recommended.  For  complete  edition  Bell's  or  Gil- 
man's  may  be  used.  Wright  has  edited  Canterbury  Tales, 
with  notes  ;  more  recent  edition  of  same  by  A.  W.  Pollard. 

The  most  satisfactory  edition  for  the  scholar  will  doubtless 
be  that  edited  by  Rev.  Walter  W.  Skeat  (Clarendon  Press, 
Macmillan)  and  now  in  course  of  publication.  This  edition 
contains  life  of  Chaucer,  variorum  readings  of  text  "from 
numerous  manuscripts,"  notes,  etc  Two  volumes  have  been 
issued. 

There  are  numerous  modernizations  of  Chauoer,  also  prose 


98          INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

paraphrases,  some  of  the  latter  designed  for  young  renders. 
Chaucer '»  Pilgrimage,  Epitomised  by  William  Calder  (Black- 
wood),  gives  "  Prologue  "  with  prose  paraphrase  and  prose  ver- 
sion of  principal  tales.  Mrs.  Haweis'  Chaucer  for  Schools  is 
admirably  adapted  for  young  readers. 

3.  CUAUCEH.     Biography,  criticism,  etc.     Convenient  man- 
ual for  general  use  is  A.  W.  Pollard's  Chaucer,  in  English 
Literature  Primer  Series:  Macmillan.     Lounsbury's  Chaucer, 
three  volumes,  is  a  scholarly  work  of  high  order.     See  also, 
Lowell's  essay  on  "  Chaucer,"  in  My  Study   Windows  (indis- 
pensable); Ward's  Life  of  (iii  English  Men  of  Letters  Series); 
Saudras'  Etude  sur   Chaucer  considere  connne  Imitateur  det 
Trouveres;  Suunders'    Canterbury   Tales;  Alexander  Smith's 
"  Chaucer,"  in  Dreamthorpe,  not  strictly  reliable,  but  gives 
graphic  pictures  of  chivalry.     "  The  Pilgrim  and  the  Plough- 
man," in  Palgrave's  Visions  of  England,  p.  82,  may  be  read 
with  class.     Ten  Brink's  English  Literature,  vol.  ii.,  includes 
this  period,  v,  especially  for  Chaucer. 

4.  HISTORY,  MANNERS,  ETC.     Pauli's  Pictures  of  Old  Eng- 
land (valuable  for  social  conditions,  etc.,  in  Chaucer's  time); 
Jusserand's  English  Wayfaring  Life  in  the  Fourteenth  Century; 
Wright's  History  of  Domestic  Manners  and  Sentiments  in  Eng- 
land during  the  Middle  Ages;  Cutt's  Scenes  and  Characters  in 
the  Middle  Agef ;  Browne's  Chaucer's  England;  Sir  Qawainand 
the  Green  Knight,  Retold  in  Modern  Prose  with  Introduction 
and  Notes,  by  Jessie  L.  Weston  (1898),  in  Arthurian  Romances 
Series;  Lauier's  Boys'  Froissart,  and  Bulfinch's  Age  of  Chivalry. 

5.  LANGLAND.     Warton's  Histoj-y  of  English  Poetry,  sec.  8; 
Morley's  English  Writers,  vol.  iv.     Piers  Ploughman,  a  con- 
tribution to  the  history  of  English  Mysticism,  etc.  (in  translation, 
1894):  Langland's  Vision  of  Piers   tlie  Ploughman  Done  into 
Modei-n  Prose  with  an  Introduction,  by  Kate  M.  Warren  (1895). 

6.  LANGUAGE.     Marsh's  Lectures  on  the  English  Language; 
Lounsbury's  English  Lauguage;  Earle's  Philology  of  the  Eng- 
lish Tongue;  O.  F.  Emerson's  History  of  the  English  Language; 
Trench's  English  Past  and  Present. 


PART  II 

PERIOD  OF  ITALIAN  INFLUENCE 

1400-1660 

/ 

CHAPTER   I 

THE  EEVIVAL  OF  LEAB1TEN& 
THE  COMING  OF  THE  NEW  LEARNING  TO  ENGLAND 

THE  century  following  the   death  of  Chaucer  is 
generally  regarded  as  "  the  most  barren  "  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  literature.     Indeed,  after  the  year  1400, 
we  find  little  evidence  of  a  fresh  and  vigorous  life  in 
English  literature  until  the  year  1579,  when  Spenser's 
Shepherd's  Calendar  was  given  to  the  world.     Yet  the 
fifteenth  century  is,  nevertheless,  of  far-reaching  im- 
portance in  the  history  of  England's  mental  growth. 
It  was  a  time  of  national  education.     If  England  did 
not  produce  great  literature,  she  received  from  many 
sources  new  thoughts  and  impulses,  which   replen- 
ished and  broadened  her  life,  and  which  later  found 
expression  in    her   literary  work.     In    the   fifteenth 
century  England  passed  definitely  out  of  the  bounds 
of   the  Middle  Ages  and   came    to   share   as  a  na- 
tion in  the  inspiration  of  the    Renaissance,  which, 
in    the   century   before,   only   such   rare   individual 


100       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

minds  as  Chaucer  and  "Wyclif  bad  known  by  antici- 
pation. The  feudal  society  of  the  Middle  Ages  was 
finally  shattered  in  England  by  the  Wars  of  the 

Roses  (1455-1485),  in  which  great  num- 
The  new  ^ers  of  tne  o\&  nobility  perished.  The 

outworn  scholastic  learning,  the  relic  of 
the  mediaeval  monastic  schools,  was  cast  aside,  °nd 
the  reorganization  of  the  entire  educational  sysiem, 
of  England,  according  to  the  advanced  ideas  of  Itaiy, 
was  begun.  In  the  early  years  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury the  old  learning  had  ceased  to  satisfy,  and  the 
new  had  not  yet  come.  At  Oxford  the  spirit  of  free 
inquiry  stimulated  by  Wyclif  had  been  sternly  sup- 
pressed. Versifiers  worked  painstakingly  after  the 
pattern  set  by  Chaucer  ;  but  literature,  like  learning, 
waited  the  breath  of  a  new  impulse.  So  England  lay 

"  Between  two  worlds,  one  dead, 
The  other  powerless  to  be  born."* 

Then  the  new  life  manifested  itself  amid  the  break- 
ing  up  of  the  old  order.  At  Oxford,  between  1420 
and  1485,  new  colleges  were  established, 
and  a  libraiT  was  founded  by  Hum- 
phrey, Duke  of  Gloucester.  About  the 
middle  of  the  century  Henry  VI.  founded  King's,  and 
Margaret  of  Anjou  Queen's  College,  Cambridge,  and 
in  the  same  reign  the  great  school  of  Eton  was  estab- 
lished. Three  universities  arose  in  Scotland  between 
1410  and  1494.  But  even  more  important  than  the 
increased  opportunities  for  education  was  the  intro- 
duction of  new  methods  and  subjects  of  study.  The 

*  Matthew  Arnold's  Stamatfrom  tJu  Grande  Chartreuse. 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  101 

knowledge  of  Greek  life  and  literature,  almost  wholly 
lost  during  the  Middle  Ages,  had  stirred  Italy  with 
the  power  of  a  fresh  revelation.  Chrysoloras,  an 
ambassador  from  Constantinople,  had  begun  to  teach 
Greek  in  Florence  in  1395,  and  upon  the  fall  of 
Constantinople  (1453)  numbers  of  Greek  scholars 
took  refuge  in  Italy,  bringing  precious  manuscripts 
and  the  treasures  of  an  old  thought  which  Europe 
hailed  as  "  new."  Italy  became  the  university  of 
Europe,  and  toward  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century 
English  scholars  learned  at  Padua,  at  Bologna,  or  at 
the  Florence  of  Lorenzo  de' Medici,  what  they  taught 
at  Oxford  or  at  Cambridge.  Cornelius  Vitelli,  an 
Italian  exile,  taught  Greek  at  Oxford  before  1475; 
there,  too,  William  Grocyn  lectured  on  Greek  in 
1491,  after  he  had  studied  under  Vitelli,  and  in 
Florence  and  Venice.  Among  Grocyn's  hearers  was 
the  young  Sir  Thomas  More,  who  was  later  to  em- 
body the  new  spirit  in  his  history  of  Richard  III., 
and  in  the  Utopia.  We  have  thus  an  illustration  of 
the  way  in  which  the  new  learning  sprang  from 
Italian  to  Englishman,  and  from  the  English  scholar 
to  the  English  writer,  thus  passing  out  of  the  college 
into  the  wider  sphere  of  literature.  Among  this 
band  of  reformers  was  Thomas  Linacre,  a  learned 
physician  ;  John  Colet,  who  studied  the  New  Testa- 
ment in  the  original,  and  who  started  a  system  of 
popular  education  by  founding  in  1510  the  grammar 
school  of  St.  Paul  ;  Erasmus,  the  famous  Dutch 
scholar,  who  taught  Greek  at  Cambridge,  and  wrote 
at  More's  house  his  Praise  of  Folly 

Side  by  side  with  the  new  learning  came  the  new 


102       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

means  men  had  found  for  its  diffusion.  Willu.ui 
Caxton,  who  had  learned  the  strange  art 
n  in^'  of  printing  at  Bruges,  returned  to  Eng- 
land in  1476,  and  set  up  his  press  at  Westminster  "at 
the  sign  of  the  Red  Pale."  Here  he  published  the 
Dictes  and  Sayings  of  the  Philosophers  (1477),  the 
first  work  printed  in  England.  Caxton  was  no  mere 
tradesman  ;  he  was  prompted  by  a  deep  and  unselfish 
love  for  literature.  His  press  gave  England  the  best 
he  knew — the  poems  of  Chaucer,  tire  Morte  d?  Arthur 
of  Sir  Thomas  Malory,  a  noble  book  on  which  Ten- 
nyson based  his  Idylls  of  the  King.  Our  first 
printer  was  himself  an  industrious  translator  ;  the 
favorite  of  royal  and  noble  patrons  of  learning. 
"Many  noble  and  divers  gentle  men"  discussod  lit- 
erary matters  with  him  in  his  humble  workshop  ; 
some  books  he  printed  under  the  protection  of  the 
King  himself  ;  Earl  Rivers,  the  Queen's  brother,  a 
scholar  and  a  pioneer  of  the  "  New  Learning,"  was 
.his  friend  and  patron. 

While  the  touch  of  Greek  beauty  and  philosophy, 

restored  and  immortal  after  their  burial  of  a  thousand 

The  discovery  vears>  was  t^us  reanimating  Europe,  the 

of  the  New      horizon  of  the  world   was  suddenly  en- 

larged  by  a  series  of  great  discoveries. 

In  1486  Diaz  discovered  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  ;  in 

1492   Columbus  penetrated  the  sea  of  darkness  and 

gave  co  civilization  a  New  World  :  in  1498  Vasco  di 

Gama  rounded  Africa  and  made  a  new  path  to  India. 

England  shared  in  this  fever  of  exploration,  and  iu 

1497  the  Cabots,  sent   by   Henry  VII.     "  to    subdue 

land  unknown  to  al!  Christians,"  saw  the  mainland  of 


THE  BEVTVAL  OF  LEABNING  103 

America.  We  can  hardly  overestimate  the  impetus 
given  to  the  mental  life  of  Europe  by  such  a  sudden 
rush  of  new  ideas.  The  opportunities  for  life  and 
action  were  multiplying  :  man's  familiar  earth  was 
expanding  on  every  side.  The  air  was  charged  with 
wonder  and  romance  ;  the  imagination  of  explorers 
was  alive  with  the  dreams  of  a  poet,  and  cities  shin- 
yiig  with  gold,  or  fountains  of  perpetual  youth,  were 
sought  for  in  the  excitement  of  sensation  which  made 
the  impossible  seem  a  thing  of  every  day. 

In  the  midst  of  all  the  new  activity,  Copernicus  (dr. 
1540)  put  forth  his  theory  that,  instead  of  being  the 
center  of  the  universe,  round  which  the 
whole  heavens  revolved,  the  solid  earth 
was  but  a  satellite  in  motion  round  the  central  sun. 
While  this  conception,  so  startling  to  men's   most 
fundamental    notions,    was    slow    to    gain    general 
acceptance,  it  was  another  element  of  wonder  and  of 
change. 

The  Church  was  quickened  by  the  currents  of  this 
new  life.  Men  chafed  at  its  corrupt  wealth  and 
narrow  mediaeval  views.  The  Bible  was 

translated   and   made   the  book   of  the   The  Beforma- 

tion. 

people,  Luther,  the  type  of  the  unfet- 
tered, individual  conscience,  faced  Pope  and  Cardina' 
with  his  "  Here  I  stand,  Martin  Luther  ;  I  cannot  do 
otherwise :  God  help  me."  This  mighty  upheaval 
shook  England  as  well  as  Germany.  The  year  of  1526 
saw  the  introduction  of  Tyndale's  translation  of  the 
Bible,  and  eight  years  later  the  policy  of  Henry  VIII. 
withdrew  the  Church  in  England  from  the  headship 
of  the  Pope. 


104       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Thus  England  came  to  share  in  the  diverse  activi- 
ties of  the  Renaissance,  intellectual,  maritime,  and 
religious  ;  in  the  revival  of  learning,  the 
discovery  of  the  world,  and  the  Reforma- 
tion. In  the  fifteenth  century  she  had  absorbed  and 
stored  up  many  vital  influences  ;  early  in  the  six- 
teenth century  these  slowly  accumulated  forces,  these 
new  emotions  and  ideas,  began  to  find  an  outlet  in 
the  work  of  a  new  class  of  writers,  and  we  reach  the 
threshold  of  the  Elizabethan  era,  the  time  when  the 
Renaissance  found  utterance  in  English  literature. 

EXPRESSION    OF   THE    NEW    LEARNING   IN  LITERATURE 

The  first  conspicuous  example  of  the  influence  of 
Italy  on  English  verse  is  found  in  the  poems  of  Sir 

Thomas  Wyatt  and  of  Henry  Howard, 
Wyattand      Earl    of    gurrey>      These   noblemen   be_ 

longed  to  the  new  class  of  "  Courtly 
Makers,"  *  poets  of  the  court  circle,  in  whose  brilliant 
and  crowded  lives  the  making  of  verses  was  but  the 
graceful  and  incidental  accomplishment  of  the  finished 
cavalier.  Poetry  was  a  court  fashion,  and  Henry 
VIII.,  a  patron  of  the  new  learning,  was  himself  a 
writer  of  songs.  Both  Wjratt  and  Surrey  were  trans- 
lators as  well  as  imitators  of  the  Italian  poetry,  and 
their  effect  on  literature  was  even  greater  than  the 
intrinsic  value  of  their  work.  They  introduced  the 
Bonnet,  which  Petrarch  had  recently  brought  to  great 

*  Maker  is  a  poet  (cf.  Gr.  TTOI^T^  =  a  maker,  a  poet),  one  who 
creates.  The  words  troubadour  arid  trouvere  involve  the  same 
idea  of  the  poet  as  finder,  or  maker  :  v.  Century  Dictionary 
and  cf.  note  on  p.  23,  supra. 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  105 

perfection — almost  the  only  l.ighly  ?rtificial  poetic 
form  ever  successfully  transplanted  to  England. 
Surrey  did  even  more  for  the  future  of  English  poe- 
try. In  his  partial  translation  of  Vergil's  JEneid,  he 
Adopted,  from  the  Italian,  the  unrhymed  ten-syllable 
measure  (iambic  pentameter),  which  we  call  blank 
verse.  This  meter  the  dramatists  of  Elizabeth's  time 
thus  found  ready  to  their  hand.  Used  in  the  first 
English  tragedy,  the  Gorboduc,,  or  Ferrex  and  Porrexy 
of  Sackviile  and  Norton  (1561),  improved  by  Marlowe 
and  by  Shakespeare,  it  was  made  the  epic  verse  of 
English  poetry  in  Paradise  Lost  and  Paradise 
Regained.  But  "Wyatt  and  Surrey  did  more  than 
use  Italian  meters  and  poetic  forms ;  they  had 
absorbed,  also,  the  sentiment  and  thought  of  Italy, 
and,  in  their  songs  and  sonnets,  deal  with  "  the  com- 
plexities of  love,"  and  kindred  themes,  according  to 
the  best  Italian  models.  While  we  may  weary  of 
their  conventional  gamut  of  sighs  and  groans,  we 
must  think  of  these  Courtly  Makers  as  doing  a  great 
work  by  bringing  to  English  poetry  that  new  Italy 
which  was  the  fairy  godmother  of  Elizabethan  litera- 
ture. The  publication,  in  1557,  of  the  work  of  these 
two  poets,  in  a  collection  known  as  TotteVs  Miscel- 
lany, did  much  to  popularize  the  new  style  of  writ- 
ing ;  and  with  that  year  the  Elizabethan  period  may 
conveniently  be  said  to  begin. 

The  extent  and  importance  of  Italy's  influence  in 
England,  whether  on  education  or  liter- 
ature, can  be  appreciated  only  by  careful  Italian  influ- 
study. 

"  Every  breeze  was  dusty  with  the  golden  pollen 


106       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

of  Greece,  Rome,  and  of  Italy."  *  Sir  Thomas  More 
wrote  a  life  of  Pico  di  Mirandola,  a  great  leader  in 
the  new  Italian  culture.  In  Sackville's  Mirror  for 
Magistrates  (1563)  we  recognize  the  influence  of 
Dante,  and  the  Faerie  Queene  of  Edmund  Spenser 
(1590)  is  aglow  with  the  warmer  and  more  prodigal 
beauty  of  the  south,  and  filled  with  reminiscences  of 
the  romantic  poems  of  Tasso  and  Ariosto.  The  same 
force  was  contributing  to  the  growth  of  a  great 
English  drama,  and  Shakespeai'e  himself  was  but  One 
among  many  playwrights  who  took  their  plots  from 
the  Italian  novels,  and  brought  home  to  London 
audiences  the  glories  of  Venice  or  Verona. 

Through  the  example  and  stimulus  of  Italy,  the 
literatures  of  Greece  and  Rome  were  made  a  living 
_,         .    .   element  in  English   culture.     Not  only 
the  trans-       did  scholars  and  the  fine  ladies  of  the 
lators.  court  pore  over   their  Plato  in  Greek, 

translators  were  busily  at  work  making  the  great 
classics  the  common  quarry  for  all  who  could  read 
the  English  tongue.  During  the  latter  half  of  the 
sixteenth  and  early  part  of  the  seventeenth  centuries, 
Vergil's  ^Eneid,  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  numbers  of 
Seneca's  plays,  and  Homer,  in  the  famous  translation 
of  Chapman,  were  thus  made  English  literature.  The 
Elizabethan  writers  delighted  in  a  somewhat  osten- 
tatious display  of  this  newly  acquired  learning,  and 
their  works  are  often  filled  with  classic  allusions 
which  we  should  now  consider  commonplace.  But 
as  a  quickening  power  their  effect  was  incalculable. 
Shakespeare's  use  of  Sir  Thomas  North's  translation 
*  Lowell's  essay  on  "  Spenser,"  in  Among  My  Books. 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  10V 

of  Plutarch's  Lives  admirably  illustrates  the  way 
in  which  the  translator  supplied  material  for  the 
author.  Out  of  North's  version  Shakespeare  built 
his  Julius  Ccesar,  Coriolanus,  Antony  and  Cleopatra, 
and,  to  some  extent,  Timon  of  Athens.  The  litera- 
ture of  Italy  was  likewise  thrown  open  to  the  Eng- 
lish reader.  Harrington  translated  Ariosto's  Orlando 
Furioso  (1591)  ;  Fairfax  translated  Tasso's  Jeru- 
salem delivered  (1600),  while  hundreds  of  Italian 
stories  were  for  sale  in  the  London  bookstalls  clus- 
tered about  old  St.  Paul's. 

ELIZABETHAN     ENGLAND 

The  thought  and  imagination  of  England,  thus 
expanding  under  the  stimulus  of  the  Renaissance, 
found  many  conditions  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth 
which  favored  their  expression  in  literature. 

In  the  two  preceding  reigns  much  of  the  national 
force  had  been  spent  in  religious  controversies. 
Edward  VI.  (1547-1553)  had  forced  ^^  fr<nn 
Protestantism  upon  a  nation  not,  as  a  religions  per- 
whole,  fully  prepared  to  accept  it ;  8ecution- 
Mary  (1553-1558)  with  a  religious  zeal  as  pathetic 
as,  in  our  eyes,  it  was  cruel  and  mistaken,  had  striven 
to  persecute  the  people  back  into  Roman  Catholicism. 
In  Elizabeth's  reign  we  pass  out  of  the  bitterness 
and  confusion  of  this  warfare  of  religions  into  a 
period  of  comparative  quiet.  The  religious  and 
political  difficulties  which  beset  Elizabeth,  on  her 
accession  in  1558,  slowly  sank  out  of  sight  under  her 
firm  and  moderate  rule.  Patience  and  toleration  did 
much  to  soften  the  violence  of  the  religious  parties  j 


108       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  fierce  fires  of  martyrdom,  which  had  lit  up  the 
terrible  reign  of  Mary,  were  cold,  and  the  nation, 
relieved  from  pressing  anxieties,  was  comparatively 
free  to  turn  to  other  issues.  The  very  year  in  which 
Shakespeare  is  supposed  to  have  come  up  to  London 
to  seek  his  fortune  (1587)  saw  the  final  removal  of  a 
threatened  danger  by  the  execution  of  Mary  Queen 
of  Scots,  while  the  year  following  England  struck 
down  the  haughty  menace  of  the  Spaniard  by  her 
defeat  of  the  Armada. 

But  the  reign  was  more  than  a  period  of  relief 

from  past  struggles  or  persecution  ;  it  was  marked 

by  a  rapid  advance  in  national  prosper- 

Prosperity  of  jtv  an(j  ^y  a  widespread  increase  in  the 

comforts  and  luxuries  of  life.  Among 
the  people  there  were  many  causes  of  contentment. 
Improved  methods  of  farming  doubled  the  yield  per 
acre ;  the  domestic  manufacture  of  wool  greatly 
increased,  and  homespun  came  into  favor.  In  many 
little  ways,  by  the  introduction  of  chimneys,  of 
feather  beds,  pillows,  and  the  more  general  use  of 
glass,  the  conveniences  of  living  were  greatly 
increased.  The  sea,  as  well  as  the  land,  yielded  a 
large  revenue.  Not  only  did  the  English  fishing 
boats  crowd  the  Channel,  but  hardy  sailors  brought 
back  cod  from  the  Newfoundland  banks,  or  tracked 
the  whale  in  the  vast  solitudes  of  the  polar  seas. 

England  was  laying  the  foundations  of  her  future 

commercial   and    maritime    supremacy.      Her  trade 

Growth  of     increased  with  Flanders   and  with    the 

commerce.      ports    of  the    Mediterranean,  and    her 

merchant  ships  pushed  to  Scandinavia,   Archangel, 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  109 

and  Guinea.  In  1566  Sir  Thomas  Gresham  built 
the  Royal  Exchange  in  London,  a  hall  in  which 
the  merchants  met  as  the  Venetians  in  their  Rialto. 
Toward  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  famous 
East  India  Company  was  established. 

With  the  ease  and  wealth  that  sprang  from  this 
increasing  prosperity  came  that  delight  in  beauty, 
that  half-pagan  pleasure  in  the  splendid 
adornments   of   life,  which  characterize   ""^.splendor 

01  ill6. 

the  Italian  Renaissance.  Life,  no  longer 
shut  within  the  heavy  masonry  of  the  feudal  castle, 
ran  glittering  in  the  open  sunshine.  Stately  villas 
were  built,  with  long  gable  roofs,  grotesque  carvings, 
and  shining  oriels,  and  surrounded  with  the  pleached 
walks  and  the  terraces,  the  statuary  and  the  fountains 
of  an  Italian  garden. 

The   passion   for   color  showed   itself   among  the 
wealthier  classes  in  a  lavish  magnificence  and  eccen- 
tricity of   costume.     The  young  dandy 
went  "  perfumed  like  a  milliner,"  *  and     re88' 
often  affected  the  fashions  of  Italy  as  the  Anglo- 
maniac  of  our  own  day  apes  those  of  England.     In 
its  luxury  of  delight  in  life  and  color,  the   nation 
bedecked  itself 

"  With  silken  coats,  and  caps,  and  golden  rings, 
With  ruffs,  and  cuffs,  and  farthingales,  and  things  ; 
With  scarfs  and  fans,  and  double  change  of  bravery 
With  amber  bracelets,  beads,  and  all  this  knavery."  f 

Moralists  and  Puritans  bitterly  denounced  the  ex- 

*  King  Henry  IV.,  act  i.  scene  3. 

f  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  act  iv.  scene  3. 


110        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

travagance  and  absurdities  of  the  rapidly  changing 
fashions.  "  Except  it  were  a  dog  in  a  doublet," 
writes  an  author  of  the  time,  "  you  shall  not  see  any 
so  disguised  as  are  my  countrymen  of  England."  * 
But  ridicule  and  reproof  were  alike  powerless  to 
check  the  nation's  holiday  mood.  Men  put  off  their 
more  sober  garments  to  rustle  in  silks  and  satins,  to 
sparkle  with  jewels  ;  they  were  gorgeous  in  laces 
and  velvets,  they  glittered  with  chains  and  brooches 
of  gold,  they  gladly  suffered  themselves  to  be  tor- 
mented by  huge  ruffs,  stiff  with  the  newly  discovered 
vanity  of  starch. 

Shakespeare,  whom  we  cannot  imagine  over  precise, 
is  fond  of  showing  such  fashionable  vanities  in  an 
unfavorable  light,  and  from  more  than  one  passage 
we  may  suppose  him  to  have  felt  an  intense,  country- 
bred  dislike  for  painted  faces  and  false  hair.  On  the 
other  hand,  when  we  read  his  famous  description  of 
Cleopatra  in  her  barge,  we  appreciate  how  all  this 
glow  of  color  appealed  to  and  satisfied  the  imagina- 
tion of  the  time,  f  The  same  spirit  showed  itself  in 
the  costly  banquets,  in  the  showy  pageants  or  street 
processions,  with  their  elaborate  scenery  and  alle- 
gorical characters,  in  the  revels  like  those  with  which 
Queen  Elizabeth  was  received  at  Kenilworth  (1575), 
in  the  spectacular  entertainment  of  the  mask,  a  per- 
formance in  which  poet,  musician,  and — as  we  should 
say — the  stage  manager,  worked  together  to  delight 
mind,  eye,  and  ear.  Milton  has  this  splendor  in  mind 
when  he  writes : 

*  Harrison's  Elizabetlian  England,  Camelot  Series,  p.  108. 
\Antany  and  Cleopatra,  act  ii.  scene  2. 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  111 

**  There  let  Hymen  oft  appear 
In  saffron  robe,  with  taper  clear, 
And  pomp,  and  feast,  and  revelry, 
With  mask  and  antique  pageantry, 
•       Such  sights  as  youthful  poets  dream 
On  summer  eves  by  haunted  stream."* 

But  the  Elizabethan  passion  for  dress  and  orna- 
ment is  but  a  surface   indication   of   the   immense 

delight   in  life  which  characterizes  the 

Tf  .  .     .    Elizabethan 

time.     If  we  would  appreciate  the  vital   delight 

spirit  of  this  crowded  and  bewildering  in  life, 
age,  we  must  feel  the  rush  of  its  superb  and  irrepress- 
ible energy,  pouring  itself  out  through  countless  chan- 
nels. England  was  like  a  youth  first  come  to  the 
full  knowledge  of  his  strength,  rejoicing  as  a  giant  to 
run  his  course,  and  determined  to  do,  to  see,  to  know, 
to  enjoy  to  the  full.  The  fever  of  adventure  burned  in 
her  veins  ;  Drake  sailed  round  the  world  (1577-1580)  ; 
the  tiny  ships  of  Hawkins,  Frobisher,  Gilbert,  and  the 
rest,  parted  the  distant  waters  of  unplowed  seas.  The 
buccaneers  plundered  and  fought  with  the  zest  and 
unwearied  vigor  of  the  viking.  When  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh  was  taken  prisoner  in  1603,  he  is  said  to 
have  been  decked  with  four  thousand  pounds'  worth 
of  jewels  ;  yet,  courtier  and  fine  gentleman  as  he 
was,  he  could  face  peril,  hunger,  and  privation,  in  the 
untracked  solitudes  of  the  New  World.  With  an 
insatiable  and  many-sided  capacity  for  life  typical  of 
his  time,  Raleigh  wrote  poetry,  boarded  Spanish 
galleons,  explored  the  wilderness,  and  produced  in 
his  old  age  a  huge  History  of  the  World.  In  their 

•L 'Allegro. 


112        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

full  confidence  of  power  men  carried  on  vast  literary 
undertakings,  like  Sidney's  Arcadia,  Dray  ton's  Poly- 
olbion,  or  Spenser's  faerie  Queene,  the  magnitude  of 
which  would  have  daunted  a  less  vigorous  genera- 
tion. Nothing  wearied,  nothing  fatigued  them  ;  like 
Raleigh,  they  could  "toil  terribly."  The  young 
Francis  Bacon — lawyer,  philosopher,  and  courtier — 
wrote  to  Cecil  with  an  inimitable  audacity :  "  I  have 
taken  all  knowledge  to  be  my  province." 

The  center  of   all   this   full   and   active   life  was 

London.     It  was  there  that  not  only  all  the  great 

dramatists,  poets,  and  courtiers  met,  but 

Shakespeare's  t}iere  too  came  the  famous  travelers  after 
London. 

their  long  and  perilous  voyages  to  take 

their  ease  in  their  inns.  At  the  old  Mermaid  tavern 
in  Bread  Street  gathered  the  great  men  of  the  age. 
Here  Shakespeare,  Jonson,  Raleigh,  and  the  rest 
drank  their  malmsey  and  canary  like  ordinary  mor- 
tals, and  smoked  with  wonder  the  newly  introduced 
tobacco,  discussing,  doubtless,  the  latest  play  or  poem, 
or  listening  eagerly  to  travelers'  tales  of  the  splendors 
of  Italy  or  the  marvels  of  the  New  World. 

We  must  remember  that  Shakespeare's,  like  Chau- 
cer's, London  was  a  walled  town,  and  that  its  great 
gates  were  still  used.  Just  outside  of  the  wall  to  the 
north  lay  open  fields,  dotted  occasionally  with  houses 
and  windmills.  There  was  Spitalfield,  Smithfield  or 
Smoothfield,  then  a  grassy  plain  where  tournaments 
were  held  and  where,  under  Mary,  Protestants  had 
been  burned.  Much  of  the  ground  about  the  city 
thus  remained  uninhabited.  The  population  of 
London  at  this  time  is  placed  at  about  a  hundred  and 


Of  one  of  the  former  12  Companies  is  the  Lo.   Mayor  of  the  Cyte  comenly  chosen 
•treete.     f.  Aldermanburye.     g.  Barbican,     h.  Aldersgate  streete.     i.  Charterhowse.     k. 
p.  S.  Androwes.      q.  Newgate.       r.  S.  lones.      s.  S.  Nic   shambels.       t.  Cheap  syde. 
|No  i  in   Map.]     2.  Colmanstreete.     3.  Bassings  hall.     4.  Hounsditche.     5.   Leaden  hall. 
ii.  Paules.     12.  Eastcheape.     13.  Fleetstreete.     14.  Fetter  lane.     15.  S.  Dunshous.     16.  T 
a? .  Battle  bridge.    22.  Bermodsoy  streete.    loannes  Norden  Anglus  descripsit  anno  1593. 

NORDEN'S   MAP 
Engraved  by  Van  den  Keere.     Photographed  on  wood  from  the  cony  in  t 


"; 

3£  i  !T 


Bushops  gate  streete.    b.  Papie.    c.  Alhallowes  in  the  wall.    d.  S.  Taphyns      e.  Syluer 
>rne  Conduit.     1.  Chauncery  lane.     ra.  Temple  barr.     n.  Holbourn.     o.  Grayes  Inn   lane. 
cklers  burye.      w.  Brodestreete.      x.  The  stockes.      y.  The  Exchannge.      z.  Cornehill. 
dlpratious  streete.     7.  Heneage  house      8.  Fanchurche.    '9.  Marke  lane.     10.  Minchyn  lane. 
sireete.     17.  London  stone.     18.  Olde  Baylye.     19.  Clerkenweii.     20.  Winchester  house. 

LONDON    IN    1593. 
:ii5ritish  Museum  by  Stephen  Thompson,  and  re-engraved  by  W.  H.  Hooper. 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  113 

fifty  thousand  people,  so  that  while  the  city  was 
already  pushing  out  into  the  country  in  some  direc- 
tions, the  great  bulk  of  the  people  could  still  be 
accommodated  within  the  walls. 

The  streets  were  narrow  and  ill-paved,  and  un- 
healthy from  refuse  and  bad  drainage,  but  they  were 
gay  with  the  bright  and  varied  costumes  of  the  people, 
and  the  splendid  jewels  of  the  nobles  flashed  in  an 
atmosphere  then  undimmed  by  the  smoke  of  count- 
less furnaces.  The  extravagant  and  gorgeous  dress 
of  the  nobility  presented  a  striking  contrast  to  the 
plainer  clothes  or  liveries  of  the  lower  classes.  For 
in  those  days  dress  defined  the  rank,  and  one  knew 
the  apprentice  by  his  round  woolen  cap  and  plain 
doublet,  the  lawyer  by  his  loose  black  gown  and 
tight-fitting  ooif,  the  yeoman  by  his  russet  home- 
spun, and  could  even  tell  a  bishop's  servant  from  a 
nobleman's  by  his  yellow  livery.  The  streets  rang 
with  the  cries  of  all  kinds  of  peddlers,  many  of  whose 
quaint  verses  have  fortunately  been  preserved.  Along 
the  Strand,  which  stretched  beyond  the  city  wall 
parallel  with  the  Thames,  stood  some  of  the  finest 
houses  of  the  great  nobles — York  House,  where  Bacon 
was  born,  Durham  Place,  where  Raleigh  lived,  Somer- 
set House,  Baynard's  Castle,  and  the  Temple,  with 
its  gardens. 

The  majority  of  houses  were  built  chiefly  of  wood, 
although  brick  and  stone  were  beginning  to  be  used. 
They  were  turreted,  and  had  many  gables  and  over- 
hanging upper  stories.  The  fronts  of  the  houses  were 
often  plastered  and  ornamented  with  coats  of  arms 
or  curious  designs  of  carved  woodwork.  All  the 


114        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

handsome  places  on  the  Strand,  whose  beautiful  gar- 
dens  sloped  to  the  Thames,  had  terraces  and  steps 
leading  down  to  the  water,  and  every  great  establish- 
ment had  its  own  barge  and  watermen.  At  night  it 
must  have  reminded  one  of  Venice,  when  the  ladies, 
masked  and  cloaked,  came  down  by  torchlight  to 
meet  their  gallants  waiting  for  them  in  silken-covered 
tiltboats.  Indeed,  by  either  night  or  day  the  Thames 
was  a  beautiful  sight,  for  the  river  then  ran  clear 
and  sparkling,  while  on  it  floated  snowy  swans,  and 
brighthr  trimmed  boats,  tilled  with  a  gay  company, 
skimmed  over  its  surface.  It  will  help  us  to  picture 
the  immense  number  of  tliese  small  boats  when  we 
realize  that  the  watermen  took  the  place  of  the  cab- 
men of  the  present  day.  Instead  of  driving  one 
took  a  boat,  and  at  a  certain  ferry  the  passer  by  is 
said  to  have  been  hailed  by  the  cry  : 

"  Twopence  to  London  Bridge,  threepence  to  the  Strand, 
Fourpence,  sir,  to  Whitehall   Stairs,  or  else  you'll  go  by 
land." 

The  same  old  London  Bridge,  which  we  noted  in 
Chaucer's  time,  was  still  standing,  but  many  houses 
and  shops  had  been  added  to  those  it  then  contained. 
These  were  built  with  their  rear  overhanging  the 
water,  which  rushed  through  the  arches  beneath  them 
with  great  rapidity.  The  famous  painter,  Hans 
Holbein,  who  came  to  England  in  Henry  VIII. 's 
time,  occupied  one  of  these  houses,  and  must  have 
seen  many  striking  pictures  pass  his  door.  The 
tower  which  stood  before  the  drawbridge  had  been 
elaborately  rebuilt  by  Elizabeth  and  called  Nonesuch 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  115 

House,  over  the  gate  on  the  Southwark  side  were  the 
heads  of  traitors  and  criminals,  stuck  on  poles. 

But  to  make  our  mental  picture  complete,  we  must 
repeople  these  scenes  with  the  rush  of  life  ;  the  nave 
of  St.  Paul's  is  filled  with  gossiping  throngs,  the 
Thames  with  its  pleasure-seekers,  the  theaters  packed 
with  noisy  spectators.  If  we  can  but  make  all  this 
alive  again  in  our  imagination,  we  shall  realize  that 
to  live  in  Shakespeare's  London  was  to  touch  at  every 
point  all  the  crowded  activities  of  the  time. 

And  all  this  young  life,  with  its  varied  spheres 
of  action,  was  still  further  quickened  by  a  deep 
national  pride  in  the  growing  greatness 
of  England,  and  by  a  feeling  of  chiv- 
alric  loyalty  to  the  Queen.  Religious 
differences  gave  way  before  a  common  bond  of  patri- 
otism. The  men  that  faced  "the  Great  Armada" 
were  united  by  a  common  hatred  of  Spain,  a  com- 
mon devotion  to  England  and  to  her  Queen.  The 
destruction  of  this  huge  armament  made  every 
English  heart  beat  with  a  new  pride  of  country 
that  became  a  moving  power  in  the  literature  of  the 
time.  We  feel  the  exultant  thrill  of  this  triumph  in 
those  stirring  words  in  Shakespeare's  King  John: 

"  This  England  never  did,  nor  never  shall, 
Lie  at  the  proud  foot  of  a  conqueror, 
But  when  it  first  did  help  to  wound  itself. 
Now  these  her  princes  are  come  home  again, 
Come  the  three  corners  of  the  world  in  arms, 
And  we  shall  shock  them.     Nought  shall  make  us  rue^ 
If  England  to  itself  do  rest  but  true."* 

*  King  John,  act  v.  scene  7. 


116         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

And  the  center  of  this  new  nationality  was   the 

Queen.      Capricious,    vain,    and    fickle    as    Elizabeth 

was,    she   awakened   a   devoted  loyalty 

th<f^ueen°.      denied   to   the    gloomy    and    relentless 

Mary,  or  to  the  timorous  and  ungainly 

James.      She  had   a  quick   and    practical  sympathy 

with  the  new  intellectual  and  literary  activities  of 

her  time.     The  first  regular  tragedy  was    produced 

before  her,  and  her  interest  helped  the  development 

of  the  struggling  drama. 

"The  versatility  and  many-sidedness  of  her  mind  enabled 
her  to  understand  ever}'  phase  of  the  intellectual  movement 
about  her,  and  to  fix  by  a  sort  of  instinct  on  its  highest  repre- 
sentative." * 

As  we  review  the  achievements  of  Elizabethan 
England  we  can  see  that  the  same  magnificent  energy 

which    makes    England     prosperous     at 
Summary. 

home  and  triumphant  upon  the  seas  is 

the  motive  power  back  of  the  greatest  creative 
period  of  her  literature.  Looking  at  this  great  time 
as  a  whole,  we  must  see  England  as  "a  noble  and 
puissant  nation  rousing  herself  like  a  strong  man 
after  sleep  and  shaking  her  invincible  locks — as  an 
eagle  mewing  her  mighty  youth  and  kindling  her 
undazzled  eyes  at  the  full  midday  beam."t  Eliza- 
bethan literature  is  but  one  outlet  for  this  imperious 
energy;  it  is  the  new  feeling  for  life  that  creates  the 
drama  as  well  as  discovers  kingdoms  far  away.  This 
is  indeed  the  Renaissance — the  Be-birth. 

*  Green's  Hixtnry  of  the  English  People,  vol.  H.  p.  319. 
t  JSIiltor's  Aricpuritifi 


THE  REVIVAL   OF  LEARNING  117 

EDMUND    SPKNSKB 

Edmund  Spenser  was  born  in  London  about  1552. 
There  is  some  dispute  as  to  his  parentage,  but  ae 
appears  to  have  belonged  to  a  respectable  Lanca- 
shire family.  After  attending  the  Merchant  Taylor 
school  in  London,  he  went  to  Pembroke  College, 
Cambridge,  as  a  sizar,  or  free  scholar,  in  1569.  His 
first  published  poems,  translations  from  Du  Bellay 
and  Petrarch,  appeared  in  the  same  year  in  a  poetical 
miscellany  called  the  Theater  for  Worldlings.  The 
work  is  smooth  and  creditable,  but  the  especial  value 
of  the  poem  is  its  indication  of  Spenser's  early  inter- 
est in  the  French  and  Italian  literature. 

While  at  college  Spenser  became  acquainted  with 
Gabriel  Harvey,  who  figures  in  the  literary  history 
of  the  time  as  a  learned,  if  somewhat  formal  and 
narrow-minded  critic,  deeply  interested  in  the  devel- 
opment of  English  poetry.  Spenser  left  Cambridge 
after  taking  his  master's  degree,  in  1576,  and  spent 
two  years  in  the  north,  probably  with  his  kinsfolk 
in  Lancashire.  Shortly  before  1579  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  the  mirror  and 
pattern  of  the  English  gentleman  of  the  time,  then 
a  young  man  of  about  Spenser's  age.  Tradition  has 
it  that  Spenser  wrote  his  Shepherd's  Calendar  during 
a  stay  at  Penshurst,  Sidney's  country  plz,ce.  The 
poem  received  immediate  recognition  as  a  work 
which  marked  the  coming  of  a  new  and  original 
poet.  It  is  an  eclogue,  or  pastoral  poem,  in  twelve 
books,  one  for  each  month.  Spenser  weaves  into  its 
dialogue  some  of  his  recent  country  experiences, 
including  his  unsuccessful  suit  of  a  lady  he  calls 


118        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEBATUEB 

Rosalind.  He  asserts  his  Puritanism,  condemns  the 
laziness  of  the  clergy,  and  pays  the  customary  tribute 
to  the  vanity  of  the  Queen.  In  Elizabeth's  time  the 
great  avenue  to  success  was  through  the  royal  favor, 
and  Spenser  tried  to  push  his  fortunes  at  court 
through  his  friend  Sidney  and  the  Earl  of  Leicester. 
But  Sidney  Was  out  of  the  Queen's  good  graces,  and 
had  left  in  disgust  to  weave  the  airy  tissue  of  his 
Arcadia. 

Leicester  had  Spenser  appointed  secretary  to  Lord 
Grey,  the  new  deputy  to  Ireland,  and  in  1580  the 
young  poet  left  the  brilliant  England  of  Elizabeth, 
with  its  gathering  intellectual  forces,  for  a  barbarous 
and  rebellious  colony.  In  this  lawless  and  miserable 
country  he  spent  the  rest  of  his  life,  except  for  brief 
visits  to  England  ;  "banished,"  as  he  bitterly  writes, 
"  like  wight  forlorn,  into  that  waste  where  he  «ras 
quite  forgot." 

Lord  Grey  was  recalled  in  1582,  but  Spenser  re- 
mained in  Dublin  about  six  years  longer  as  clerk 
in  the  Chancery  Court.  We  find  an  unintentional 
irony  in  the  fact  that  the  former  incumbent,  from 
whom  Spenser  purchased  the  post,  a  certain  Ludovic 
Briskett,  wished  to  "  retire  to  the  quietness  of  study." 
Spenser  was  rewarded  for  nis  services  by  a  gift  of 
the  castle  of  Kilco^man,  part  of  the  forfeited  estate 
of  the  Desmonds.  There  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  found 
him  : 

"  Amongst  the  coolly  shade 
Of  the  green  alders  of  the  Mullae's  shore,"* 

*  Colin  Clout  Come  Home  Again.  Read  this  entire  passage; 
beginning  line  56. 


THE  REVIVAL  OP  LEARNING  119 

and  heard  from  the  poet's  own  lips  the  first  three 
books  of  his  masterpiece,  The  Faerie  Queene.  Raleigh, 
with  great  and  generous  admiration,  prevailed  upon 
Spenser  to  accompany  him  to  London,  where  the 
first  installment  of  The  Faerie  Queene  appeared  in 
the  same  year  (1590).  Spenser  remained  in  London 
about  a  year,  learning  the  miseries  of  a  suitor  fof 
princes'  favors,  and  then  returned  in  bitter  indigna- 
tion to  his  provincial  seclusion. 

Spenser's  keen  sense  of  disappointment  and  neglect 
found  utterance  in  a  passage  in  Mother  IlubbarcTs 
Tale  (1591),  which  brings  us  near  to  the  inner  life  of 
the  poet  himself. 

"  Full  little  knowest  thou,  that  hast  not  tride 
What  hell  it  is,  in  suing  long  to  bide  : 
To  loose  good  dayes,  that  might  be  better  spent ; 
To  wast  long  nights  in  pensive  discontent ; 
To  speed  to-day,  to  be  put  back  to-morrow  ; 
To  feed  on  hope,  to  pine  with  feare  and  sorrow ; 
To  have  thy  Princes'  grace,  yet  want  her  Peeres  ; 
To  have  thy  asking,  yet  waite  manie  yeeres  ; 
To  fret  thy  soule  with  crosses  and  with  cares  ; 
To  eate  thy  heart  through  comfortlesse  dispaires  ; 
To  fawne,  to  crowche,  to  waite,  to  ride,  to  roime, 
To  spend,  to  give,  to  want,  to  be  undonne. 
Unhappie  wight,  borne  to  desastrous  end, 
That  doth  his  life  in  so  long  tendance  spend  1 " 

It  is  not  often  that  we  are  permitted  to  get  so 
close  to  Spenser  as  in  these  words.  They  give  us 
a  glimpse  into  the  true  meaning  of  his  experience. 
We  feel  how  he  hated  his  exile  in  Ireland,  when  we 
see  how  deeply  his  failure  to  leave  it  for  England 
had  wounded  him,  and  we  can  estimate  more  justly 


120         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  effect  of  that  dreary  banishment  on  Spenser  and 
his  work.  Shut  out  from  all  the  excitement  and 
rush  of  life  that  crowded  Shakespeare's  London,  he 
turned  from  the  repulsive  coarseness  and  violence 
about  him,  to  delight  his  soul  in  the  languor  and 
beauty  of  the  Italy  of  the  Renaissance.  He  lived  in 
the  dream-world  of  Ariosto  and  Tasso,  and  carried 
their  gorgeous  fancies  into  his  Faerie  Queene. 

After  his  return  to  Ireland  in  1594,  he  married 
Elizabeth  Boyer,  "  an  Irish  country  lass,"  and  paid 
her  a  poet's  tribute  in  his  Amoretti,  or  love  sonnets, 
and  in  the  splendid  Epithalamion,  or  marriage  hymn, 
a  poem  filled  with  a  rich  and  noble  music.  Here 
also,  besides  writing  several  minor  poems,  he  com- 
pleted six  of  the  twelve  books  that  were  to  make 
up  the  first  part  of  The  Faerie  Queene.  About  1595 
Spenser  again  visited  London,  and  in  the  following 
year  published  his  Prothalamion,  or  song  before 
marriage.  Apart  from  its  poetical  value,  this  poem 
has  a  personal  interest.  Through  it  we  are  able  to 
determine  Spenser's  birthplace,  for  he  speaks  of 
London  as 

"  My  most  kindly  nurse, 
That  to  me  gave  this  life's  first  native  source." 

From  it,  too,  it  would  appear  that  he  was  again  an 
unsuccessful  suitor  at  court.  Spenser  returned  to 
Ireland  in  1598,  having  been  appointed  sheriff  of 
Cork.  Shortly  after,  his  house  was  burned  and 
plundered  in  the  rebellion  of  Tyrone.  Spenser 
barely  escaped  with  his  wife  and  children.  He  soon 
afterward  went  to  London  as  bearer  of  dispatchea 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  121 

Here  he  died  a  few  weeks  later  (January  16,  1599)  in 
a  lodging-house,  a  ruined  and  broken-hearted  man. 
Ben  Jonson  wrote  :  "  He  died  for  lack  of  bread,  in 
King  Street,  and  refused  twenty  pieces  sent  to  him 
by  my  Lord  of  Essex,  saying  that  he  had  no  time  to 
spend  th?m." 

Spenser  stands  alone,  the  one  supremely  great  un- 
dramatic  poet  of  a  play-writing  time.  In  his  youth 
he  had,  indeed,  composed  nine  comedies, 
now  lost,  but  the  quality  of  his  genius  ™?s 
was  apart  from  the  dramatic  temper  of 
his  greatest  poetical  contemporaries.  With  a  won- 
derful richness  and  fluency  of  poetic  utterance,  with 
the  painter's  feeling  for  color,  and  the  musician's  ear 
for  melody,  Spenser  lacked  the  sense  of  humor,  the 
firm  grasp  of  actual  life,  indispensable  to  the  success- 
ful dramatist.  From  one  aspect  Spenser's  work 
expresses  the  spirit  and  deals  with  the  problems  of 
his  time.  In  The  Faerie  Queene  the  struggle  of  the 
Church  of  England  with  the  Church  of  Rome,  a  vital 
issue  for  Elizabeth  and  her  people,  is  imaged  by 
the  opposing  figures  of  the  saintly  Una  and  the  foul 
and  dissembling  Duessa  :  what  Spenser  deemed  the 
righteous  severity  of  Lord  Grey's  Irish  administra- 
tion is  symbolized  by  Artegal,  the  knightly  personi- 
fication of  Justice.  But  while  curr&nt  events  or 
questions  are  thus  introduced  under  the  thin  veil  of 
allegory,  while  from  time  to  time  we  catch  the  more 
or  less  distorted  image  of  some  great  contemporary, 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots  or  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  from 
another  aspect  The  Faerie  Queene  impresses  us  as 
remote  from  the  substantial  world  of  fact,  enveloped 


122         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

in  an  enchanted  atmosphere  peculiarly  its  own.  In 
its  visionary  pages  Spenser  revives  a  fading  chivalry, 
clothing  it  in  fantastic  but  beautiful  hues,  at  a  time 
when  the  author  of  Don  Quixote  was  about  to  ridi- 
cule its  decaying  glories  with  his  melancholy  scorn. 
Yet  unreal  and  luxurious  as  The  Faerie  Queene  may 
seem,  Spenser  had  in  it  a  distinctly  practical  and 
moral  object.  Under  the  mask  of  allegory  he  aimed 
to  show  the  earthly  warfare  between  good  and  evil, 
representing  the  contending  virtues  and  vices  by  the 
different  personages  of  the  story.  The  general 
object  of  the  poem  was  to  "  fashion  a  perfect  gentle- 
man," by  showing  the  beauty  of  goodness  and  its 
final  triumph.  But  this  moral  purpose,  overlaid  with 
lavish  color  and  confused  by  minor  or  conflicting 
allegories,  is  often  lost  sight  of  by  the  reader;  some- 
times, we  are  inclined  to  think,  by  the  poet  himself. 
We  are  rather  led  to  enjoy  without  question  the 
beauty  which  delights  the  eye,  or  the  rhythmical 
undulations  of  a  verse  which  satisfies  the  ear.  Moral 
purpose  and  allegory  are  alike  obscured  by  the  intri- 
cacies of  a  story,  which,  as  we  advance,  reminds  us 
of  a  river  scattering  its  divided  forces  through  count- 
less channels,  until  it  ends  choked  in  sand.  But  the 
imperishable  charm  of  the  poem  is  independent  of  its 
story  or  of  its  declared  purpose.  No  poet  before 
Spenser  had  called  out  such  sweet  and  stately  music 
from  our  English  speech,  and  none  had  so  captivated 
by  an  appeal  to  the  pure  sense  of  beauty.  Spenser 
was  a  high-minded  Englishman,  a  student  of  the  ideal 
philosophy  of  Plato,  with  a  touch  of  Puritan  severity; 
but  he  had,  above  all,  the  warm  and  beauty-loving 


TEE  REVIVAL  OP  LEARNING  123 

temper  of  the  Renaissance.  In  his  solitary  Kilcol- 
man,  amid  the  insecurity,  pillage,  and  misery  of 
unhappy  Ireland,  he  felt  the  full  fascination  of  Italy, 
an  alluring  southern  magic,  which  to  Ascham  seemed 
like  "  the  enchantments  of  the  Circes."  In  Tfie 
Fa'erie  Queene,  the  half-pagan  and  gorgeous  beauty  of 
the  Italian  Renaissance  finds  its  most  perfect  expres- 
sion in  English  poetry,  modified  and  restrained  by 
Spenser's  serenity  and  spirituality  and  by  his  English 
conscience.  With  him  we  are  not,  as  with  Chaucer, 
admitted  to  the  mirth  and  jolly  fellowship  of  the 
common  highway  ;  ratner,  like  Tennyson's  Lady  of 
Shalott  in  her  high  tower,  we  see  in  a  glass  only  the 
passing  reflection  of  knight  and  page.  There  are 
moods  when  this  rests  and  satisfies  ;  then,  again,  we 
look  down  to  Camelot  at  life  itself,  and  the  mirror 
cracke  from  side  to  side. 

STUDY   LIST 

SPENSER 

1.  THE  FAERIE  QUEENE,   Bk.  I.,  edited  with  notes  and 
introductions  by  G.  W.  Kitchin,   Clarendon    Press    Series. 
(Pr.  Kitchin  has  also  edited  the  second  book  of  The  Faerie 
fyjeene,  published  in  a  separate  volume  to  correspond  with  the 
above).      Selections  in  Ward's  English  Poets,  vol.  i.  "  Pro- 
thalamion,"  "  Epithalamion." 

2.  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.    Church's  Life  of  Spenser, 
English  Men  of  Letters  Series,  Lowell's  essay  on  "  Spenser." 
in  Among  My  Books.     Green's  History  of  the  English  People, 
vol.  ii.  461-467.     "  One  Aspect  of  Spenser's  Faerie  Queene." 
Ando-cer  Review,  vol.  xii.  p.  272 ;  t>.  also  "  Another  Aspect  of 
the  Fafirie  Queene,"  a  reply  to  this  article  in  same  Review,  vol. 
xiv.  p.  609.     Grosart's  edition  of  Complete  Works  of  Speruter.  is 


324        INTRODUCTION   TO    ENGLISH    LITERATURE 

difficult  to  obtain  but  valuable  for  advanced  work  ;  it  con- 
tains life  and  critical  articles  by  eminent  writers.  Dowden's 
Transcripts  and  Studies  contains  essays  on  "Spenser,  the 
Poet  and  Teacher"  and  on  the  "Heroines  of  Spenser." 

THE  ENGLISH   DRAMA  BEFORE  SHAKESPEARE 

Shakespeare  is  so  much  a  part  of  our  English  civil- 
ization, we  accept  his  gift  to  us  so  easily,  and  are  so 
familar  with  his  greatness,  that  it  is  well 

Elieabetkan  ^Q  remin(j  ourselves  of  his  place  as  the 
drama. 

king  of  all  literature.     Thomas  Carlyle 

•wrote  of  him  :  "I  think  the  bast  judgement,  not  of 
this  country  only,  but  o.'  Europe  at  large,  is  point- 
ing to  the  conclusion  that  Shakespeare  is  the  chief  of 
all  poets  hitherto  ;  the  greatest  intellect  who,  in  our 
recorded  world,  has  left  a  record  of  himself  in  the 
way  of  literature;"*  and  Emerson  says,  speaking 
ior  our  own  branch  of  the  English  people  :  "Of  all 
books  dependent  upon  their  intrinsic  excellence, 
Shakespeare  is  the  one  book  of  the  world.  .  .  Out 
of  the  circle  of  religious  books,  I  set  Shakespeare 
as  the  one  unparalleled  mind/'f  Criticism  cannot 
explain  how  or  why  the  country-bred  son  of  a 
Warwickshire  trader  should  have  possessed  this 
supreme  gift ;  it  is  the  miracle  of  genius  ;  but  we 
can  partly  understand  now  surrounding  conditions 
favored  the  expression  of  Shakespeare's  genius 
through  a  dramatic  form.  It  is  beyond  our  philoso- 
phy to  analyze  the  nature  of  the  mysterious  force 
shut  within  a  seed,  although  we  may  appreciate  the 

*  Heroes  and  Hero  Worship  ;  The  Hero  as  Poet. 
f  Representative  Men ;  Shakespeare. 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  125 

conditions  which  help  its  development.  Let  us  look 
at  Shakespeare  in  the  light  of  some  of  those  sur- 
roundings in  which  his  genius  worked. 

Shakespeare  did  not  create  that  dramatic  era  of 
which  he  was  the  greatest  outcome  ;  he  availed  him- 
self of  it.  He  lived  in  the  midst  of  one  shakespeare 
of  the  world's  few  great  dramatic  partofadra- 
periods— a  period  equaled  only,  if  matic period, 
equaled  at  all,  by  the  greatest  epoch  in  the  drama  of 
Greece.  The  Elizabethan  drama  was  more  than  a 
national  amusement.  More  fully  than  any  other  form 
of  literary  or  artistic  expression,  it  interpreted  and 
satisfied  the  craving  of  the  time  for  vigorous  life  and 
action.  The  theater  was  then,  as  in  classic  Greece, 
a  national  force,  and  a  means  of  national  education. 
An  immense  popular  impulse  was  back  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan dramatist.  The  wooden  play-houses  were 
daily  filled  with  turbulent  crowds,  and  scores  of  piay- 
wrights  were  busy  supplying  the  insatiable  public 
with  countless  dramas.  Shakespeare  was  sustained 
by  a  hearty,  if  not  always  discriminating,  apprecia- 
tion ;  he  was  stimulated  by  the  fellowship,  or  rivalry, 
of  a  host  of  competitors. 

At  first  sight,  this  dramatic  activity  may  seem 
to  have  sprung  suddenly  into  being  in  answer  to  a 
new  popular  demand.  The  first  regular  Theprepara- 

tragedv  was  about  the  time  of  Shakes-  ^??fovr^e 

Elizabethan 
peare  s  birth,  and  he  was  twelve  years  old   drama. 

before  the  first  regularly  licensed  theater  was  erected 
in  England  (1576). 

But  the  passion  for  life  and  action  did  not  create 
the  Elizabethan  drama  out  of  nothing ;  it  rather 


126       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

transformed  and  adapted  to  its  use  a  drama  which 
had  been  established  for  centuries.  This  drama, 
brought  into  England  some  time  after  the  Norman 
Conquest,  had  grown  out  of  the  need  which  the 
Church  felt  for  some  means  of  popular  religious 
instruction.  Short  scenes,  or  plays,  illustrating  some 
legend  of  the  saints,  or  Bible  story,  were  acted  first 
by  the  clergy,  aud  later  by  the  professional  players, 
or  by  the  Guilds.  These  Miracle  plays,  as  they 
were  called,  because  they  dealt  with  wonderful  or 
supernatural  subjects,  were  popular  in  England 
during  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries, 
and  continued  to  be  acted  in  Shakespearers  time. 
There  were  other  kinds  of  plays,  of  which  we  need 
not  speak  particularly — the  Moral  play,  an  alle- 
gorical performance,  intended  to  teach  some  moral 
lesson,  and  the  Interlude,  a  short  scene  or  dialogue, 
often  played  between  (interlude)  the  courses  at 
feasts.  The  earliest  Moral  play  extant  dates  from 
the  time  of  Henry  VI.,  but  mention  is  made  of  some 
still  earlier.  Interludes  were  composed  by  John 
Heywood,  in  Henry  VIII. 's  reign,  and  produced  at 
court.  The  introduction  of  historical  characters 
among  the  allegorical  personages  of  the  morality 
play — Riches,  Death,  Folly,  and  the  like — was  an 
important  step  toward  the  regular  historical  drama.* 
These  early  plays,  although  full  of  interest  for  the 
student,  have,  as  a  rule,  but  little  poetic  merit.  To 
our  modern  eyes  they  often  seem  irreverent  and 

*  Bale's  King  Johan  is  one  of  the  earliest  examples  of  this, 
but  it  was  probably  not  printed  until  1839,  and  had  little  influ- 
ence, it  is  supposed  to  have  been  written  in  Edward's  VI. 's 
reign.  Mention  is  made  of  Interludes  us  early  as  1464  (Ed- 
ward IV.'s  reign). 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  127 

lacking  in  dignity,  but  they  pleased  and  instructed  a 
simple-minded  and  illiterate  audience ;  they  culti- 
vated and  kept  alive  a  taste  for  acting,  and  so  pre- 
pared the  way  for  a  dramatic  development,  under  the 
re-creating  touch  of  the  new  learning. 

In  taking  the  further  step  from  the  Interlude  to 
the  more  regular  dramatic  forms,  England  was  helped 
by  the  revival  of  classical  learning,  and  Tte  begill. 
bv  the  example  of  Italy.  Her  first  reg-  ning  of  reg- 
ular comedy,  the  Ralph  Roister  Dolster  ular  drama< 
of  Nicholas  Udall,  1551,  was  written  in  .nutation  of 
the  Latin  comic  dramatist  Plautus;  her  first  tragedy, 
the  Gorboduc,  or  Ferrex  and  Porrex,  of  Sackville 
and  Norton,  while  it  dealt  with  a  subject  in  the 
legendary  history  of  England,  followed  the  style  of 
the  Latin  tragic  poet  Seneca.  The  numerous  trans- 
lations from  the  latter  writer*  are  a  proof  of  his 
influence  and  popularity.  But  the  forces  creating  a 
drama  in  England  were  too  strong  and  original  to 
make  it  a  mere  classic  imitation  ;  it  might  borrow 
from  Rome  or  Italy,  but  it  had  vitality  and  character 
of  its  own. 

Among  the  native  forces  thus  shaping  a  new  drama 
out  of  mediaeval  Miracle  plays  or  classic  adaptations, 

was  the  intense  patriotic  pride  which,  in 

+\.    j  t  ^  1-       a  •«,      i      i    Influence  of 

the  days  of  the  Armada,  stirred  England   patriotism  on 

to  more  widespread  interest  in  her  his-  growth  of 

,  drama, 

tory,  and  to  a  warmer  pleasure  in  the 

*  Between  1559  and  1566  five  English  authors  applied  them- 
selves  to  the  task  of  translating  Seneca.  Ten  of  his  plays, 
Collected  and  printed  together  in  1581,  remain  a  monument  of 
the  English  poets'  zeal  in  studying  the  Roman  ped?\gogue. 


128          INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 
image  of  her  triumphs.     The  chronicle  histories  of 

O  * 

England  were  ransacked  for  subjects,  and  her  past 
reviewed  in  dramas  which  were  the  forerunners  of 
Shakespeare's  great  series  of  English  historical  plays. 
Among  the  early  works  of  this  class  are,  The  Famous 
Victories  of  Henry  V.,  acted  before  1588,  Sir 
Thomas  More,  about  1590,  The  Troublesome  Raign 
of  King  John,  printed  in  1591,  and  The  New  Chron- 
icle History  of  King  Leir  and  his  TJiree  Daughters, 
Gonerill,  Ragan,  and  Cordelia,  acted  two  years 
later  (1593).  The  English  historical  drama  was 
thus  a  native  growth  brought  into  being  by  a 
genuine  national  impulse.  It  helps  us  to  estimate 
the  motive  power  of  this  impulse  if  we  turn  a 
moment  from  the  drama  to  other  forms  of  litera- 
ture. 

Patriotism,  while  thus  molding  the  drama,  was 
giving  new  life  to  history  and  verse.  Learned  men 
like  Stowe,  Harrison,  and  Holinshed,  were  embody- 
ing in  prose  painstaking  researches  into  English 
history  and  antiquities.  Holinshed  and  Harrison's 
Description  and  History  of  England,  Scotland,  and 
Ireland  (First  edition,  1577),  a  good  example  of 
works  of  this  class,  supplied  material  to  Shakes- 
peare for  his  historical  plays.  In  the  same  way  an 
enormous  quantity  of  verse  draws  its  inspiration 
from  England  and  her  history. 

William  Warner  set  forth  the  history  of  England 
from  the  Deluge  to  the  time  of  Elizabeth  in  a  much 
read  poem  of  ten  thousand  lines  (Albion's  England, 
1586);  Samuel  Daniel  dealt  with  English  history 
in  his  Civil  Wars  (1595);  later  Michael  Drayton 


THE    REVIVAL    OF    LEARNING  129 

wrote  his  Fleroical  Epistles,  his  splendid  ballad  oa 
the  battle  of  Agincourt,and  The  Polyolbion(lQ13), — 
"  my  strnnge  Herculean  toil  "  he  appropriately  cans 
it,  a  poetical  description  of  England  in  thirty  books, 
containing  about  one  hundred  thousand  lines.  All 
these  writers  were  bidding  people  to 

"  Look  on  England, 
The  Empress  of  the  Euro],  'an  isles, 
The  mistress  of  the  ocean,  i  er  navies 
Putting  a  girdle  round  about  the  world."  * 

From  the  historical  plays  already  named  we  pass 
easily  to  a  higher  order  of  drama  in  the  Edward  II. 
of  Christopher  Marlowe,  Shakespeare's  great  prede- 
cessor, until  we  reach  the  climax  of  England's  patri- 
otic drama  in  the  work  of  Shakespeare  himself. 

About  1580  we  find  the  drama  rapidly  taking  form 
in  London  through  the  work  of  a  group  of  rising 
dramatists,  many  of  whom  brought  from 

the    universities  a  tincture  of  the  new    Sha^e"Pear6'8 

predecessors. 
learning.     Prominent  among  these  were 

John  Lyly  (b.  1553,  d.  .606),  the  Euphtiist,  who 
produced  a  play  before  1584  ;  Thomas  Kyd  (d. 
about  1595),  whose  Spanish  Tragedy  was  written  in 
a  ranting  and  extravagant  style  much  ridiculed  by 
Shakespeare  and  the  later  dramatists  ;  George  Peele 
(b.  about  1558,  d.  about  1598),  whose  chronicle  of 
Edward  I.  (1593)  holds  an  important  place  in  the 
development  of  the  historical  drama  ;  Robert  Greene 
(b.  1560,  d.  1592),  who,  like  many  of  his  fellow  play- 
wrights, led  a  wild  and  dissipated  life,  friendless. 

•Massinger,  The  Jfaid  of  Honor,  act  i.  scene  1. 


130        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

except  in  a  few  alehouses.  In  his  Honorable  His* 
tory  of  Friar  Bacon  and  Friar  Bungay,  Greene 
gives  some  charming  scenes  of  English  country  life. 
The  name  of  this  unhappy  writer  will  always  be 
associated  with  his  spiteful  and  jealous  reference  to 
Shakespeare  as  an  "  upstart  crow,  beautified  with  our 
feathers,  that  with  his  tiger's  heart,  wrapped  in  a 
player's  hyde,  supposes  he  is  as  well  able  to  bombast 
out  a  blanke-verse  as  the  best  of  you  ;  and  being  an 
absolute  Johannes  factotum,  is,  in  his  own  conceyt,  the 
only  *  Shake-scene '  in  a  countrey."*  But,  greater 
than  all  these  in  the  tragic  intensity  of  his  genius 
and  the  swelling  majesty  of  his  "mighty  HUP,"  was 
Christopher  Marlowe  (b.  1564,  d.  1593),  the  imme- 
diate forerunner  of  Shakespeare.  When  Marlowe 
began  to  write,  the  form  of  the  English  drama  was 
still  unsettled.  Under  the  influence  of  its  classic 
models  tragedy  was  inclined  to  be  stiff,  stilted,  and 
formal ;  while  in  contrast  with  the  work  of  the  schol- 
arly and  somewhat  artificial  writers  there  were  rude, 
popular  interludes  in  jingling  rhymes,  full  of  rough, 
clownish  tricks  and  jests,  and  without  unity  and  pro- 
portion. Marlowe's  fine  touch  did  much  to  reduce 
this  confusion  to  order.  His  verse  is  the  finest  before 
Shakespeare's ;  and  stormy  and  riotous  as  was  his  life, 
his  work  shows  the  true  artist's  unselfish  devotion  to 
a  high  and  beautiful  ideal.  Marlowe  was  the  son  of 
a  Canterbury  shoemaker,  and  was  born  two  months 
before  Shakespeare.  He  graduated  at  Cambridge 
and  came  to  London  in  1581  to  plunge  into  the  vortex 

*In  his  pamphlet,  a  kind  of  dying  confession.    Greene's 
Oroats  Worth  of  Wit  Bought  with  a  Million  of  Repentance. 


THE  REYITAL  OP  LEABNINQ  1S1 

of  reckless  and  lawless  life  that  circled  round  the 
theater.  Passionate,  unquiet,  ambitious,  Marlowe  is 
spoken  of  as  an  atheist  and  a  blasphemer.  Before  he 
is  thirty  he  is  stabbed  with  his  own  dagger  in  a  low 
tavern  at  Deptford.  The  touch  of  the  unknown,  which 
he  thirsted  for  like  his  own  Faustus,  stops  him  in  the 
midst  of  his  doubts,  his  passionate  longings,  his  defi- 
ance, his  love-making,  and  his  fame — and  at  length 
he  is  quiet. 

Marlowe's  earliest  play  (Tamburlaine,  First  Part 
before  1587,  Second  Part  1590)  portrays  the  insatia- 
ble thirst  for  power,  the  spirit  of  the  typical  con- 
queror longing  for  "the  sweet  fruition  of  an  earthly 
crown."  Another  of  Marlowe's  tragedies,  The  Jew 
of  Malta,  is  generally  thought  to  have  furnished 
Shakespeare  with  some  hints  for  his  Shylock  in  The 
Merchant  of  Venice.  Edward  II.  drew  more  firmly 
the  lines  of  the  English  historical  drama,  while  Dr. 
Faustus,  with  its  magnificent  bursts  of  poetry  and 
the  accumulating  terror  of  its  tragic  close,  is  full  of 
that  overmastering  longing  for  the  unattainable  which 
seems  to  have  been  the  strongest  characteristic  of 
Marlowe's  restless  nature.  In  these  famous  lines  from 
Tamburlaine,  Marlowe  himself  seems  to  speak  to  us: 

"  Nature,  that  framed  us  of  four  elements 
Warring  within  our  breasts  for  regiment, 
Doth  teach  us  all  to  have  aspiring  minds ; 
Our  souls  whose  faculties  can  comprehend 
The  wondrous  architecture  of  the  world, 
And  measure  every  wandering  planet's  course, 
Still  climbing  after  knowledge  infinite, 
And  always  moving  as  the  restless  spheres. 
Will  us  to  wear  ourselves  and  never  rest — .* 


132        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Plays  were   acted   in    England    long  before  any 
theaters  were   built.     The   Miracle  plays  had    been 

produced  on  temporary  scaffolds,  or  on 
The  theater.  .    ••  •  i  •         •,•  i 

a  two-storied   erection,   something   like 

a  huge  doll's  house  on  wheels,  called  a  pageant.  The 
Interludes  or  the  early  dramas  were  often  played 
before  the  Queen  or  before  some  great  noble  on  a 
platform  at  one  end  of  the  huge  halls,  perhaps  at  a 
great  banquet  or  festival.  But  plays  were  a  popular 
pastime  also,  performed  in  the  open  air  in  the  court- 
yards of  the  inns  ;  and  these  square  inn-yards,  over- 
looked by  the  galleries  or  balconies  which  ran  around 
the  inclosing  walls  of  the  inn,  are  supposed  to  have 
furnished  the  model  for  the  regular  theaters.  The 
growing  delight  in  play-going  seems  to  have  pro- 
duced a  general  demand  for  more  permanent  and 
commodious  accommodations.  One  building  regu- 
larly set  apart  for  the  performance  of  plays  is  known 
to  have  been  in  use  before  1578.  In  that  year  the 
Theater  was  opened  in  Shoreditch,  outside  of  the 
City  limit.  From  this  time  the  playhouses  rap- 
idly increased,  and  when  Shakespeare  came  up  to 
London  (about  1587)  a  number  were  in  active  oper- 
ation. Shakespeare's  own  theater,  "The  Globe," 
built  1599,  lay  across  the  Thames  from  London  in  the 
"  Bankside,"  a  part  of  Southwark,  close  to  the  river. 
Other  famous  theaters  of  the  day  were  "  The  For- 
tune," "The  Rose,"  and  "The  Curtain,"  at  the  last 
of  which  Marlowe  is  known  to  have  acted.  The 
theaters  were  of  two  kinds,  public  and  private.  The 
first  were  large  six-sided  wooden  buildings,  roofed 
over  above  the  stage  and  thatched,  the  pit  or  yard 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  133 

being  without  shelter  from  the  sun  or  rain.  Galleries 
ran  round  the  walls,  as  in  the  inn-yards.  The  stage 
projected  into  the  pit,  which  was  alive  with  disor- 
derly crowds  who  stood  on  the  bare  ground,  joking, 
fighting,  or  shoving  to  gain  the  best  places.  There 
was  little  attempt  at  scenery  ;  in  the  old  plays  we 
find  such  significant  stage  directions  as  these  :  "Exit 
Venus  ;  or,  if  you  can  conveniently,  let  a  chair  come 
down  from  the  top  of  the  stage  and  draw  her  up."  * 
In  more  than  one  place  through  the  choruses  of 
Henry  V,  Shakespeare  seems  to  be  impatient  of 
the  slender  resources  of  his  stage-setting,  as  when 
he  asks  : 

"Cau  this  cock-pit  hold 
The  vasty  fields  of  France  ?  or  may  we  cram 
Within  this  wooden  O   the  very  casques, 
That  did  affright  the  air  at  Agincourt  ?  "  f 

And  in  the  wonderful  description  that  precedes  the 
battle  of  Agincourt  he  complains  : 

"  And  so  our  scene  must  to  the  battle  fly ; 
Where  (O  for  pity  !)  we  shall  much  disgrace — 
With  four  or  five  most  vile  and  ragged  foils, 
Right  ill-disposed,  in  brawl  ridiculous — 
The  name  of  Agincourt.     Yet,  sit  aud  see, 
Minding  true  things  by  what  their  mockeries  be."  \ 

The  private  theaters  were  smaller  and  more  com- 
fortable than  the  public.     They  had  seats  in  the  pit 

*  In  Greene's  Alphonrus— quoted  by   Collier,  AnnaU  of  the 
Stage,  vol.  iii.  p.  357. 

\  Chorus  to  Henry  V.  act  i 
}  Chorus  to  act  iv. 


134        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

and  were  entirely  under  roof.  Performances  were 
given  by  candle  or  torchlight,  and  the  audiences 
were  usually  more  select.  The  following  description 
by  Mr.  Symonds  gives  us  a  vivid  notion  of  the  per- 
formance of  a  play  in  Shakespeare's  time  : 

"Let  us  imagine  that  the  red-lettered  play-bill  of  a  new 
tragedy  has  been  hung  out  beneath  the  picture  of  Dame  For- 
tune \i.  e.,  at  "The  Fortune"  Theater,  the  great  rival  of 
Shakespeare's  Theater,  "  The  Globe  "]  ;  the  flag  is  flying  from 
the  roof,  the  drums  have  beaten,  and  the  trumpets  are  sound- 
ing for  the  second  time.  It  is  three  o'clock  upon  an  afternoon 
of  summer.  We  pass  through  the  great  door,  ascend  some 
steps,  take  our  key  from  the  pocket  of  our  trunk  hose,  and 
let  ourselves  into  our  private  room  on  the  first  or  lowest  tier. 
We  find  ourselves  iii  a  low,  square  building,  not  unlike  a 
circus ;  smelling  of  sawdust  and  the  breath  of  people.  The 
yard  below  is  crowded  with  simpering  mechanics  and  'pren- 
tices in  greasy  leathern  jerkins,  servants  in  blue  frieze  with 
their  masters'  badges  on  their  shoulders,  boys  and  grooms 
elbowing  each  other  for  bare  standing  ground  and  passing 
jests  on  their  neighbors.  Five  or  six  young  men  are  already- 
seated  before  the  curtain  playing  cards  and  cracking  nuts  to 
while  away  the  time.  A  boy  goes  up  and  down  among  them 
offering  various  qualities  of  tobacco  for  sale  and  furnishing 
lights  for  the  smokers.  The  stage  itself  is  strewn  with  rushes ; 
and  from  the  jutting  tiled  roof  of  the  shadow  supported  by  a 
couple  of  stout  wooden  pillars,  carved  with  satyrs  at  the  top, 
hangs  a  curtain  of  tawny-colored  silk.  This  is  drawn  when 
the  trumpets  have  sounded  for  the  third  time,  and  an  actor  in 
a  black  velvet  mantle,  with  a  crown  of  bays  upon  his  flowing 
wig,  struts  forward,  bowing  to  the  audience.  He  is  the 
Prologue. 

'•  The  Prologue  ends. 

"The  first  act  now  begins.  There  is  nothing  but  the 
rudest  scenery  ;  a  battlemented  city  wall  behind  the  stage, 
with  a  placard  hung  out  upon  it,  indicating  that  the  scene  is 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEABNINQ  135 

Rome.  As  the  play  proceeds  this  figure  of  a  town  makes  way 
for  some  wooden  rocks  and  a  couple  of  trees,  to  signify  the 
Hyrcanian  forest.  A  damsel  wanders  alone  in  the  woods, 
lamenting  her  sad  case.  Suddenly  a  cardboard  dragon  is 
thrust  from  the  sides  upon  the  stage  and  she  takes  to  flight. 
The  first  act  closes  with  a  speech  from  an  old  gentleman 
clothed  in  antique  robes,  whose  white  beard  flows  down  upon 
his  chest.  He  is  the  chorus.  .  .  The  show  concludes  with 
a  prayer  for  the  Queen's  Majesty  uttered  by  the  actors  on  their 
knees."  * 

WILLIAM    SHAKESPEARE 

There  is  on  Henley  Street,  in  Stratford-on-Avon, 
Warwickshire,  an  old  house,  with  gabled  roof  and 
low-ceilinged  rooms,  which  every  year  is 
made  the  object  of  thousands  of  pil- 
grimages. Here  William  Shakespeare  was  born,  on 
or  about  the  23d  day  of  April,  1564.  His  father, 
John  Shakespeare,  the  son  of  a  small  farmer  in  the 
neighboring  village  of  Snitterfield,  added  to  his  reg- 
ular business  of  glover  sundry  dealings  in  wool,  corn, 
and  hides,  and  possibly  the  occupation  of  butcher. 
His  mother,  Mary  Arden,  the  daughter  of  a  wealthy 
farmer  near  Stratford,  was  connected  with  one  of  the 
oldest  and  most  distinguished  families  in  Warwick- 
shire. The  Ardens  came  of  both  Norman  and  Saxon 
blood,  and  thus  represented  "the  two  great  race 
elements  that  have  gone  to  the  making  of  the  typi- 
cal modern  Englishman.''!  The  influences  about 

*  Shakespeare's  Predecessors  in  the  English  Drama,  by  J.  A. 
Symouds,  p.  289. 

f  V.  Article  on  "  Shakespeare,"  by  T.  Spencer  Baynes,  in 
Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  ninth  edition. 


J36        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEEATURE 

Shakespeare's  youth  were  such  as  growing  genius 
instinctively  appropriates  to  its  use.  Then,  as  now, 
Warwickshire  was  full  of  that  abundant  and  peaceful 
beauty  which  has  come  to  represent  for  us  the  ideal 
English  landscape.  In  Shakespeare's  day  its  north- 
ern part  was  overgrown  by  the  great  forest  of  Arden, 
a  bit  of  primeval  woodland  like  that  which  we  enter 
in  As  You  Like  It;  while  southward  of  the  river 
Avon,  which  runs  diagonally  across  the  county, 
stretched  an  open  region  of  fertile  farm  land.  Here 
were  warm,  sunny  slopes,  gay  with  those  wildflowers 
that  bloom  forever  for  the  world  in  Shakespeare's 
verse  ;  low-lying  pastures,  where  meditative  cows 
stand  knee-deep  in  grass,  and  through  which  wind 
the  brimming  waters  of  slow-flowing  and  tranquil 
streams.  Stratford  lies  in  this  more  southern  por- 
tion ;,  but  in  Shakespeare's  day  the  forest  of  Arden 
reached  to  within  an  easy  distance  of  it  for  an  active 
youth.  Near  his  native  town  the  young  Shakespeare 
could  loiter  along  country  lanes,  past  hawthorn 
hedgerows  or  orchards  white  with  May,  coming 
now  and  then  on  some  isolated  farmhouse  or  on  the 
cluster  of  thatched  cottages  which  marked  a  tiny- 
village.  There  was  Snitterfield,  where  he  must  have 
gone  to  visit  his  grandfather  ;  Shottery,  where  he 
wooed  and  won  Ann  Hathaway.  There,  in  the 
midst  of  this  rich  midland  scenery,  was  his  own 
Stratford,  with  its  low  wood-and-plaster  houses 
and  straggling  streets,  its  massive  grammar  school, 
where,  as  a  boy,  he  conned  his  Lilly's  Latin  gram- 
mar. A  little  apart,  by  the  glassy  Avon,  stood 
old  Trinity  Church,  its  lofty  spire  rising  above  the 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  137 

surrounding  elms.  There  is  abundant  evidence  that 
Shakespeare  loved  Warwickshire  with  a  depth  of 
attachment  that  nothing  could  alter.  These  early 
surroundings  entered  into  and  became  a  permanent 
part  of  his  life  and  genius,  and  his  works  are  full 
of  country  sights  and  sounds.  He  shows  us  rural 
England  in  such  scenes  as  that  of  the  sheep-shearing 
in  The  Winter's  Tale;  he  contrasts  the  free  wood- 
land with  the  court  in  As  You  Like  It;  he  defines 
for  us  the  essence  of  the  ideal  shepherd's  life,*  and 
in  many  a  song,  written  to  be  sung  in  crowded  Lon- 
don theaters,  his  imagination  escapes  to  the  fields 
and  flowers  of  his  native  Warwickshire. 

And  Shakespeare's  Warwickshire  added  to  natural 
beauty  the  charm  of  local  legends  and  the  traditions 
of  a  splendid  past.  Within  easy  reach  of  Stratford 
lay  Warwick,  with  its  fine  old  castle,  once  the  home 
of  the  great  king-maker  of  the  Wars  of  the  Roses. 
The  whole  region  was  bound  by  tradition  and  asso- 
ciation to  that  great  civil  strife  which  is  one  of  the 
chief  themes  of  Shakespeare's  plays  on  English  his- 
tory. Near  by  was  Kenil worth,  the  castle  of  Eliza- 
beth's favorite,  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  where  the 
Queen  was  received  (1575)  with  those  magnificent 
revels,  at  which  the  boy  Shakespeare  may  have  been 
present.  Traveling  companies  of  players  seem  to 
have  visited  Stratford  during  Shakespeare's  early 
years,  whose  performances  he  doubtless  witnessed. 
He  may  even  have  gazed  at  the  wonders  of  a  Mira- 
cle play  at  Coventry,  a  town  some  twenty  miles  dis- 

•  Lines  beginning,"  To  sit  upon  a  hill,"  3  Henry  VI.,  act  ii 
scene  5 


138        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

tant,  where  these  plays  were  frequently  produced  by 
the  Guilds. 

Besides  all  that  he  gained  from  such  surroundings 
and  experiences,  Shakespeare  had  received  some  in- 
struction at  the  town  grammar  school. 
Here  he  acquired,  or  began  to  acquire, 
what  his  learned  and  somewhat  pedantic  fellow- 
dramatist,  Ben  Jonson,  called  his  "small  Latin  and 
less  Greek,"  however  much  that  may  have  been.  In 
1578  John  Shakespeare,  who  had  been  prosperous 
and  respected,  began  to  lose  money,  and  it  is  gen- 
erally supposed  that,  in  consequence,  Shakespeare  was 
taken  from  school  and  put  to  some  employment. 
We  are  left  to  conjecture  concerning  these  years  of 
his  life  ;  but  we  know  that  in  1582  he  married  Ann 
Hathaway,  a  woman  eight  years  older  than  himself. 
A  few  years  later,  about  1585  to  1587,  Shakespeare 
left  Stratford  and  went  up  to  London,  as  so  many 
youthful  adventurers  are  doing  and  have  done,  to 
seek  his  fortune.  If  we  choose  to  believe  a  story 
which  there  seems  no  sufficient  cause  for  entirely 
disregarding,  the  immediate  reason  for  this  step  was 
Shakespeare's  quarreling  with  a  neighboring  landed 
proprietor,  Sir  Thomas  Lucy  of  Charlecote  Hall. 
Shakespeare  is  said  to  have  been  brought  before  this 
gentleman  for  deer-stealing.  "For  this,"  says  the 
original  authority  for  the  story,  "  he  was  prosecuted 
by  that  gentleman  [Lucy],  as  he  thought,  somewhat 
too  severely  ;  and,  in  order  to  revenge  the  ill-usage, 
he  made  a  ballad  upon  him.  And  though  this, 
probably  the  first  essay  of  his  poetry,  be  lost,  yet  it 
is  said  to  have  been  so  very  bitter  that  it  redoubled 


THE  BE  VITAL  OF  LEARNING  139 

the  prosecution  against  him  to  that  degree  that  he 
was  obliged  to  leave  his  business  and  family  in  War- 
wickshire for  some  time  and  shelter  himself  in  Lon- 
don." *  This  story  is  probably  not  without  some 
foundation  ;  but,  in  any  case,  Shakespeare's  establish- 
ment in  London  is  exactly  what  his  circumstances 
would  lead  us  to  expect.  In  1585  he  had  a  wife  and 
three  children  to  support,  his  father's  money  affairs 
had  gone  from  bad  to  worse,  and  Shakespeare,  strong 
as  we  may  imagine  in  the  hopes  and  confidence  of 
youth  and  genius,  had  every  reason  to  feel  provincial 
Stratford  too  cramped  for  his  powers. 

"  The  spirit  of  a  youth 
That  means  to  be  of  note,  begins  betimes."  f 

In  addition  to  all  this,  James  and  Richard  Bur- 
bage,  two  famous  actors  in  the  company  with  which 
Shakespeare  became  connected,  are  supposed  to  have 
been  Warwickshire  men.  If  this  were  the  case, 
Shakespeare  may  have  been  encouraged  by  the  pros- 
pect of  their  assistance. 

When  Shakespeare  reached  London  (1587?)  the 
drama  was  rapidly  gaining  in  popular  favor  ,•  clever 
young  playwrights  were  giving  it  form, 
and  Marlowe  had  recently  produced  his 
Tamburlaine.  We  know  nothing  of 
Shakespeare's  life  during  his  first  few  years  in  Lon- 
don. It  is  supposed  that  he  studied  French  and 
Italian  under  John  Florio,  a  noted  teacher  of  that 
time.  There  is  a  story  that  he  was  first  employed  at 

*  Nicholas  Rowe,  Life  of  Shakespeare. 
f  Antony  and  Cleopatra.,  act  iv.  scene  4. 


140        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

a  theater  in  holding  the  horses  of  those  who  rode  to 
the  play,  and  that  he  had  a  number  of  boys  to  assist 
him.  This,  however,  is  generally  distrusted.  We 
do  know  that  Shakespeare  made  a  place  for  him- 
self among  the  crowd  of  struggling  dramatists,  arous- 
ing the  envy  of  Greene  by  his  rapid  advance  in  favor; 
and  that  by  1592  he  was  established  as  a  successful 
actor  and  author.  In  some  way  he  seems  to  have 
commended  himself  to  the  young  Earl  of  South- 
ampton, to  whom  he  dedicated  his  first  poem,  the 
Venus  and  Adonis,  in  1593.  Shakespeare  seems  to 
have  begun  his  work  as  a  dramatist  by  adapting  and 
partially  rewriting  old  plays.  Titus  Andronicus, 
a  coarse  and  brutal  tragedy,  was  probably  one  of  the 
plays  thus  touched  up  by  Shakespeare  in  his'prentice 
period.  His  arrangement  of  Henry  VI.  (Part  I.) 
was  brought  out  in  1592,  and  seems  to  have  done 
much  to  bring  him  into  notice.  Among  these  earlier 
plays  (written  before  1598)  were  The  Comedy  of 
Errors,  in  which  Shakespeare  joins  the  imitators  of 
Plautus  ;  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  Love's 
Labor's  Lost,  into  which  many  characteristic  features 
of  the  Italian  comedy  were  introduced  ;  and  thus 
we  see  that  Shakespeare,  like  the  other  dramatists  of 
his  time,  turned  at  the  very  outset  to  classic  models 
and  contemporary  Italy.  Professor  Dowden  points 
out  that  certain  characters  and  situations  in  this  last- 
mentioned  play  were  used  again  in  a  modified  form 
in  the  later  Italian  study,  The  Merchant  of  Venice. 
To  an  Elizabethan  audience  there  was  a  glamour  in 
these  Italian  backgrounds,  even  in  the  casual  men- 
tion of  names  and  places,  that  came  freighted  with 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  141 

suggestion.  To  the  Englishman  of  Shakespeare's 
day,  the  Italy  of  the  Renaissance  was  a  region  of 
wonder  and  inspiration.  Its  marble  palaces,  its  un- 
matched and  curious  treasures  of  art,  its  learning, 
its  luxurious  magnificence  and  pagan  refinements  of 
pleasure,  the  warmth  of  its  southern  nights,  the 
liquid  blue  of  its  southern  skies,  these  things  intoxi- 
cated the  colder  and  more  sober  English  nature  and 
bewildered  the  English  conscience.  And  this  magic 
Shakespeare  felt  and  helped  to  make  his  countrymen 
feel  also. 

The  poetic  fantasy  of  A  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream  also  belongs  to  this  period.  But  Shakespeare 
also  shared  in  the  intense  patriotism  of  the  time  ;  in 
1594  he  produced  JKichard  II.,  and  the  other  plays 
of  his  great  historical  series  followed  in  rapid  suc- 
cession. At  Christmas  of  this  year  Shakespeare  is 
known  to  have  acted  with  Burbage  and  the  other 
members  of  the  Lord  Chamberlain's  company  before 
Queen  Elizabeth.  Everything  indicates  that,  so  far 
as  his  worldly  affairs  were  concerned,  Shakespeare 
steadily  prospered.  In  these  active  and  hard-work- 
ing years  he  grew  in  fortune  as  well  as  in  reputa- 
tion ;  he  showed  himself  a  practical  and  capable  man 
of  business  as  well  as  a  transcendent  genius,  and  by 
his  character  he  won  the  love  and  respect  of  his 
fellows.  By  1597  he  was  able  to  buy  a  home  for 
himself  in  his  beloved  Stratford.  In  1599  he  was 
one  of  the  proprietors  of  "  The  Globe  Theater," 
built  in  that  year.  In  1606  a  further  purchase  of 
107  acres  of  land  at  Stratford  is  made  by  Wil- 
liam Shakespeare,  Gentleman.  Thus,  while  he  is 


J42         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITER ATUBE 

adding  to  the  treasures  of  the  world's  literature, 
the  thoughts  and  ambitions  of  this  country-bred 
Shakespeare  seem  to  return  and  center  about  the 
Stratford  of  his  youth. 

Up  to  this  time,  Shakespeare's  success  had  been  in 
comedy  and  in  the  historical  drama.  He  had,  indeed, 
written  Romeo  and  Juliet,  that  rapturous  and  romantic 
tragedy  of  ill-fated  love,  and,  in  scattered  passages, 
had  given  hints  of  his  power  to  sound  the  depths  of 
yet  profounder  passion.  In  1601  he  began,  in  Julius 
Ccesar,  the  great  series  of  plays  which  rank  him 
among  the  supreme  tragic  poets  of  the  world.  In 
play  after  play  he  now  turns  from  the  humorous  and 
gayer  side  of  life  to  face  its  most  terrible  questions, 
to  reveal  to  us  the  very  depths  of  human  weakness, 
agony,  and  crime.  Some  think  that  these  great 
tragedies  were  written  out  of  the  suffering  and 
bitterness  of  Shakespeare's  own  experience,  that, 
through  the  loss  or  treachery  of  friends,  or  some 
other  personal  sorrow,  life  at  this  time  grew  dark 
and  difficult  for  him.  Whatever  griefs  gave  him 
this  insight,  it  is  certain  that  he  somehow  gained 
the  knowledge  for  which  even  genius  must  pay  the 
price  of  suffering.  Shakespeare  exhibits  in  the  plays 
of  this  period  a  full  understanding  of  the  darkest 
aspects  of  life.  Here  is  shown  us  sin,  the  hideous 
ulcer  at  the  heart  of  life,  poisoning  its  very  source, 
degrading  souls,  and  bringing  with  it  a  train  of 
miseries  which  confound  alike  the  innocent  and 
the  guilty. 

In  MacbeUi  we  are  present  at  the  ruin  of  a  soul, 
standing  irresolute  at  the  brink  of  the  first  crime  and 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  143 

then  hurrying  recklessly  from  guilt  to  guilt ;  in 
Othello  we  see  the  helplessness  of  a  "  noble  nature  " 
in  the  hands  of  fiendish  ingenuity  and  malice ; 
Ophelia,  the  "fair  rose  of  May,"  and  Hamlet,  per- 
ish with  the  guilty  King  and  Queen  ;  the  outcast 
Lear,  "  more  sinned  against  than  sinning,"  and  the 
spotless  Cordelia  fall  victims  to  a  monstrous  wicked- 
ness : 

"  Not  the  first 
Who  with  best  meaning  have  incurred  the  worst." 

To  Chaucer's  shrewd  eye  and  sunny  good  humor 
Shakespeare  added  the  sublime  depth  and  earnest- 
ness of  a  far  rarer  and  richer  nature.  If  he  was 
tolerant,  like  Chaucer,  it  was  not  because  he  was 
capable  of  an  easy  indifference,  or  "  peyned  him  not 
eche  crokked  to  redresse  ";  it  was  because,  knowing 
the  worst  of  life,  he  could  yet  accept  it  with  cheer- 
fulness and  hope  For  Shakespeare  always  shows  us 
that  high  endeavors,  greatness,  and  innocence  cannot 
really  fail  so  long  as  they  remain  true  to  themselves, 
because  they  are  their  own  exceeding  great  reward. 
It  is  enough  that  Brutus  was  "  the  noblest  Roman  of 
them  all,"  though  he  lie  dead  for  a  lost  cause  under 
the  gaze  of  the  conquering  Octavius.  Worldly  suc- 
cess may  mean  spiritual  ruin  ;  worldly  ruin,  spiritual 
success.  Shakespeare  does  not  explain  the  dark 
riddle  of  life  ;  he  does  say  with  unequaled  earnest- 
ness :  "  Woe  unto  them  that  call  darkness  light  and 
light  darkness,  that  put  bitter  for  sweet  and  sweet 
for  bitter." 

Shakespeare  is  no  apologist  for  error  ;  in  his  playi 


^sin  is  laid  bare  in  all  its  repulsive  baseness  and  deform- 
ity, a  root  of  bitterness  fouling  the  sweet  springs  of 
life.  The  groat  moral  distinctions  which — more  than 
differences  of  class,  or  race,  or  intellect — separate 
soul  from  soul,  are  everywhere  sharply  and  firmly 
drawn.  If  Richard  III.,  or  lago,  or  the  two  woman 
fiends  in  Leaf,  reveal  the  spirit  of  wickedness  incar- 
nate, in  no  poet  are  virtue  and  holiness  more  lovely 
and  divine.  Our  conceptions  of  the  worth  and  dig- 
nity of  humanity  are  raised,  our  ideals  purified  and 
ennobled,  by  the  contemplation  of  the  heroic  in 
Shakespeare's  world.  Cordelia,  Virgilia,  Miranda, 
Portia,  elevate  and  sanctify  our  thoughts  of  woman- 
hood by  their  loveliness  and  purity;  the  knightly 
courage  of  Henry  V.,  the  faithfulness  of  Kent,  the 
blunt  honesty  and  loyalty  of  Faulconbridge,  the 
Roman  constancy  of  Horatio,  all  inspire  us  with  a 
generous  admiration  for  manly  virtue.  "  Shakes- 
peare," says  Coleridge,  "  is  an  author,  of  all  others, 
calculated  to  make  his  readers  better  as  well  as 
wiser."  Yet  with  all  his  uncompromising  morality,, 
his  stern  condemnation  of  sin,  Shakespeare  pours  out 
over  the  faults  and  frailties  of  the  erring  creatures 
he  has  made,  the  fullness  of  a  marvelous  tenderness 
and  pity.  The  humility  of  a  great  nature  under 
the  sense  of  its  own  short-comings,  the  recognition 
of  an  ideal  of  excellence  so  stainless  that  all  fail  alike 
in  attaining  it,  these  personal  traits,  it  seems  to  us, 
shine  out  through  Shakespeare's  lessons  of  forgive- 
ness and  of  charity.  Throughout  all  of  Shakes- 
peare's work,  this  compassion  for  human  weakness, 
this  large-hearted  sympathy  with  human  failures  and 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  145 

mistakes,  sheds  a  gracious  and  kindly  light,  but  in 
two  plays,  Measure  for  Measure  and  The  Merchant 
of  Venice,  the  need  of  mercy  is  given  an  especial 
prominence.  In  the  first,  Isabella,  imploring  mercy 
for  her  condemned  brother,  exclaims  : 

"  Alas  !  Alas  ! 

Why,  all  the  souls  that  were  were  forfeit  once  ; 
And  B'e  that  might  the  vantage  best  have  took 
Found  out  the  remedy.     How  would  you  be, 
If  He,  which  is  the  top  of  judgment,  should 
But  judge  you  as  YOU  are  ?  "* 

And  in  the  same  spirit,  Portia  declares  : 

"  That  in  the  course  of  justice  none  of  us 
Should  see  salvation  ;  we  do  pray  for  mercy. 
And  that  same  prayer  doth  teach  us  all  to  render 
The  deeds  of  mercy,"  f 

Thus  Shakespeare,  hating  and  condemning  sin, 
teaches  us  that  our  human  weakness  requires  another 
law  than  that  of  rigid  justice.  Neither  in  our 
heavenly  nor  our  earthly  relations  dare  we  "stand 
upon  our  bond.'*  Shylock,  intrenched  in  the  support 
of  a  lower  and  earthly  law,  fails  to  see  upon  what 
compulsion  he  "  must "  be  merciful.  But  Shakes- 
peare, through  Portia,  points  to  the  obligation  of 
the  higher  law  ;  he  tells  us  that  there  is  something 
not  "  nominated  in  the  bond,"  even  charity  ;  the 
grace  of  a  mutual  forbearance  without  which  human 
life  would  be  literally  unlivable.  He  enforces  in  his 
way  the  parable  of  the  unjust  servant,  "  Shouldest 

*  Meaturefor  Measure,  act  ii.  scene  2. 
f  Merchant  of  Venice,  act  iv.  scene  1. 


146         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LTTEaATUBB 

not  thou,  also,  have  bad  compassion  on  thy  fellow- 
servant,  even  as  I  had  pity  on  thee  ?  " 

Toward  the  close  of  his  life,  Shakespeare  passed  in 
his  art  out  of  his  tragic  mood  to  write  some  of  the 
loveliest  of  his  comedies,  with  undiminished  fresh- 
ness and  creative  vigor.  The  imagination  which  at 
the  beginning  of  Shakespeare's  work  budded  forth 
in  A  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream,  the  fairy-land  of 
Oberon  and  Titania,  gives  being  to  the  dainty  spirit 
Ariel,  speeding  at  the  command  of  Prospero,  or 
cradled  in  the  bell  of  the  cowslip ;  while  in  The 
Winter's  Tale,  the  stress  of  tragedy  over,  we  can 
fancy  ourselves  back  again  in  Warwickshire  with 
Shakespeare,  breathing  its  country  odors  and  gazing 

on  the 

"  daffodils 

That  come  before  the  swallow  dares  and  take 
The  winds  of  March  with  beauty  I "  * 

As  Shakespeare's  fortune  and  engagements  per- 
mitted him,  he  seems  to  have  spent  more  and  more 
time  in  his  native  place  ;  and  he  appears 

?*Sl™e°*    to  have  returned   there  about   1610  or 
CO  Stratford. 

1612.  He  had  said  his  last  to  the  world  ; 
for  a  few  silent  years  that  appeal  profoundly  to  our 
imaginative  interest,  he  lived  in  the  midst  of  the 
scenes  and  associations  of  his  boyhood,  and  then,  on 
the  23d  of  April,  1616,  the  fifty-second  anniversary, 
it  is  supposed,  of  his  birth,  he  closed  his  eyes  on  the 
world. 

Shakespeare  speaks  to  all  times  and  nations  for  the 
English  nature  and  genius.  He  gathers  and  sums  up 

»  Winter**  Tale,  act  iv.  scene  3. 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  147 

the  best  that  has  gone  before  him — the  Celtic  wit, 
fancy,  and  deftness  ;  the  Teutonic  solidity  and  sin- 
cerity, its  earnestness,  morality,  and  reverence  for 
the  unseen.  To  this  capacious  nature,  drawing 
its  forces  from  the  genius  of  two  races,  awakened 
Italy  gives  her  tribute  ;  and  through  it  the  English 
Renaissance  finds  its  supreme  poetic  utterance.  This 
man,  then,  stands  for  the  English  people,  a  king  over 
them  for  all  time.  "  Here,  I  say,"  Carlyle  writes,  "  is 
an  English  king  whom  no  time  or  chance,  Parliament 
or  combination  of  Parliaments  can  dethrone  !  This 
king,  Shakespeare,  does  he  not  shine  in  crowned 
sovereignty  over  us  all  as  the  noblest,  gentlest,  yet 
strongest  of  rallying-signs ;  indestructible ;  really 
more  valuable  in  that  point  of  view  than  any  other 
means  or  appliance  whatsoever?  We  can  fancy  him 
as  radiant  aloft  over  all  the  nations  of  Englishmen  a 
thousand  years  hence.  From  Paramatta,  from  New 
York,  wheresoever,  under  what  sort  of  parish  con- 
stable soever,  English  men  and  women  are,  they  will 
say  to  one  another  :  'Yes,  this  Shakespeare  is  ours  ; 
we  produced  him,  we  speak  and  think  by  him  ;  we 
are  of  one  blood  and  kind  with  him.'"* 

*  "  The  Hero  as  Poet,"  Heroet  and  HeroWorthip,  by  Thomas 
Carlyle. 


148        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LTTEBATUBB 


TABLE  OF  SHAKESPEARE'S  WORKS 

(F.  J.  Furnivall) 


I.   PRE-BHAKESPEAREAN 
GROUP. 

Touched  by  Shakespeare. 
Titus  Andronicus  (1588-90). 

1  Henry  VI.  (1590-91). 

II.  EARLY  COMEDIES. 

Love's  Labor's  Lost  (1590). 
Comedy  of  Errors  (1591). 
Two    Gentlemen  of  Verona 

(1592-93). 
Midsummer   Night's   Dream 

(1593-94). 

m.   MARLOWE-SHAKESPEARE 
GROUP. 

Early  History. 

2  and  3  Henry  VI.  (1591-92). 
Richard  III.  (1593). 

IV.  EARLY  TRAGEDY. 

Romeo  and  Juliet  (?  two  dates, 
1591,  1596-97). 

V.  MIDDLE  HISTORY. 

Richard  II.  (1594). 
King  John  (1595). 

VI.  MIDDLE  COMEDY. 

Merchant  of  Venice  (1596). 

VH.   LATER  HISTORY. 

History  and  Comedy  united. 
1  and  2  Henry  IV.  (1597-98). 
Henry  V.  (1599). 

Vm.   LATER  COMEDY. 

(a)  Bough  and  Boisterous 

Comedy. 

Taming  of  the  Shrew  (?  1597). 
Merry  Wives  (?  1598). 


(b)  Joyous,  Refined,  Romantic,. 
Much    Ado    About  Nothing 

(1598). 

As  You  Like  It  (1599). 
Twelfth  Night  (1600-1601). 

(c)  Serious,  Dark,  Ironical. 
All's  Well  (?  1601-1602). 
Measure  for  Measure  (1603). 
Troilus  and  Cressida  (?  1603  , 
revised  1607  ?). 

IX.   MIDDLE  TRAGEDY. 

Julius  Caesar  (1601). 
Hamlet  (1602). 

X.   LATER  TRAGEDY. 

Othello  (1604). 

Lear  (1605). 

Macbeth  (1606). 

Antony  and  Cleopatra  (1607). 

Coriolanus  (1608). 

Timon  (1607-1608). 

XI.    ROMANCES. 

Pericles  (1608). 
Cymbeline  (1609). 
Tempest  (1610). 
Winter's  Tale  (1610-11)). 

XH.   FRAGMENTS. 

Two  Noble  Kinsmen  (1612). 
Henry  VIII.  (1612-13). 

Poems. 

Venus  and  Adonis  (?  1592). 
Lucrece  (1593-94). 
Sonnets  (?  1595-1605). 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  149 

STUDY  LIST 
SHAKESPEARE 

1.  EDITIONS.    There  are  many  admirable  editions  of  Shakes- 
peare adapted  to  school  use.     Among  these  may  be  mentioned 
those   of  William  J.    Rolfe,  of   Rev.  Henry   N    Hudson,  of 
William  Aldis  Wright,   the    Temple  Shakespeare    of    Israel 
Golancz  and  the  Enrslf.y  Shakespeare  of  C.  H.  Herfonl.     The 

'  Cambridge  "  (unexpurgated)  is  a  standard  edition. 

For  advanced  work  the  "Variorum"  edition  of  Horace 
Howard  Furness  will  be  found  invaluable.  This  edition  in- 
cludes (1902)  the  following:  Hamlet  (2  vols  ),  Romeo  and  Juliet, 
Macbeth,  Lear,  Othello,  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  As  Ton  Like 
It,  The  Tempest,  The  Winter's  Tale,  Much  Ado  About  Nothing, 
A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  Twelfth  Night. 

2.  GRAMMARS,    LEXICONS,  BIOGRAPHY,   CRITICISMS,   ETC. 
The  main  object  of  the  student  who  approaches  the  works  of 
Shakespeare  primarily  as  literature  is  to  cultivate  his  powers 
of  appreciation  and  enjoyment.     His  first  aim  is  to  enter  imagi- 
natively into  the  greatest  poetry  of  the  world;  this  aim  should 
never  be  obscured  by  using  the  plays  as  mere  material  for  the 
study  of  language  or  grammar,  or  by  laying  undue  stress  on 
"doubtful   passages"   or    worrying  over  them  as    so  many 
verbal  puzzles.     On  the  other  hand,  our  enjoyment  of  Shakes- 
peare rests  largely  on  a  solid  basis  of  understanding;  appre- 
ciation often  depends  upon  the  thoroughness  of  our  study,  for 
as  there  are  many  things  in  reading  Shakespeare  that  we  must 
feel,  there  are  also  many  things  that  we  must  know.     We  must, 
therefore,  know  something  of  Shakespeare's  grammar,  his  use 
of  words,  his  local  or  contemporary  allusions;  thoroughness 
and  minuteness  cannot  be  too  strongly  insisted  on,  provided, 
that  they  are  raide  a  means,   and   not    an  end.      For  this 
purpose  the  following  will  be  found  of  the  greatest  value: 
Abbott's    Shaktsperian     Grammar    (Macmillan);     Schmidt's 
Shakenpeare  Lexicon,  Berlin;  Craik's  English  of  Shakespeare, 
edited  by  W.  J.  Rolfe;  Mrs.  Cowden  Clarke's  Concordance  to 
Shakespeare;  Mrs.  H.  H.  Furness'  Concordance  to  Poem*. 


150        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

In  biography,  criticism,  etc.,  the  following  will  be  found 
helpful  for  general  use:  Dowden's  Shakespeare  Primer;  Dow- 
den's  Shakespeare,  Hit  Mind  and  Art;  Dowden's  Introduction 
to  Shakespeare;  Sidney  Lee's  Life  of  Shakespeare  (also  in 
abridged  edition  for  students),  Brandes'  William  Shakespeare, 
Elze's  Illustrated  Life  of  Shakespeare,  Knight's  Life  of  Shakes- 
peare, J.  O.  Halliwell-Phillips'  Life  of  Shakespeare,  F.  G. 
Fleay's  Chronicle  History  of  the  Life  and  Works  of  William 
Shakespeare.  Baynes'  article  on  ' '  Shakespeare  "  in  Encyclo- 
paedia Britannica  is  valuable  for  study  of  early  environ- 
ment. Hudson's  Shakespeare,  His  Life,  Art,  and  Character 
Hauler's  Illustrations  of  the  Life  and  Studies  of  Shakespeare, 
Gervinus'  Shakespeare  Commentaries,  Lowell's  essay  in  My 
Study  Windows,  R.  G.  Moulton's  Shakespeare  at  a  Dramatic 
Artist. 

GENERAL  NOTES  AND  REFERENCES.  Pollard's  English 
Miracle  Plays,  Keltic's  British  Dramatists,  Symonds'  Shakes- 
peare's Predecessors  in  the  English  Drama,  Church's  Life  of 
Bacon,  essay  on  "  Marlowe''  in  Henry  Kingsley's  Fireside 
Studies,  Elizabethan  Songs,  A.  H.  Bullen's  England's  Helicon, 
Lyrics  from  the  Dramatists  of  the  Elizabethan  Age,  Bell's  Songs 
from  the  Dramatists,  Thayer's  Six  Best  English  Plays, 
Katherine  Lee  Bates'  English  Religious  Drama,  Shakespeare's 
Plutarch  (Skeat's  edition),  Shakespeare's  Holinshead  (Bos- 
well-Stone's  edition). 

3.  GENERAL  SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY,  a.  All  criticisms, 
commentaries,  notes,  and  the  like,  should  be  made  strictly 
subordinate  to  the  careful  and  independent  study  of  the  play 
itself.  An  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  play  through  care- 
ful and  repeated  reading  is  the  first  great  essential,  and  the 
student  will  find  it  both  more  profitable  and  more  interesting 
to  be  as  far  as  possible  his  own  critic  and  commentator,  before 
resorting  to  the  work  of  others.  He  should  try  to  do 
his  own  thinking,  rather  than  rely  entirely  on  others  to  do  it 
for  him. 

b.  When  the  play  has  been  carefully  read,  the  sources  of  the 
plot  may  be  taken  up,  and  the  raw  material  with  which 
Shakespeare  worked  compared  with  the  finished  shape  given 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  151 

to  it  by  his  art.  Thus  the  Roman  plays  should  be  compared 
with  North's  translation  of  Plutarch's  Livet,  which  Shakes- 
peare followed  with  unusual  closeness  ;  the  English  historical 
plays  should  send  the  student  to  the  "  Chronicles  "  on  which 
Shakespeare  relied,  etc. 

,      e.  The  date,  or  probable  date,  of  the  composition  of  the 

]  play  must  be   noted,  and   its  precise  chronological  p?ic«  in 

i  Shakespeare's  work  carefully  studied.    (For  this  v.  Table  of 

Shakespeare's  "Works,  p.  148,  or  that  in  Dowden's  Shakespeare 

Primer.    This  raises  the  question  of  its  possible  or  probable 

connection  with  the  plays  immediately  before  or  after  it  in 

order  of  composition. 

d.  The  student  is  now  in  a  position  to  define  his  opinion  of 
the  chief  characters  of  the  play.     In  doing  this  he  should  take 
into  account  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  time  in  which 
they  lived,  and  the  especial  circumstances  in  which  they  are 
placed.     It  is  helpful  to  detach  everything  spoken  throughout 
the  play  by  the  particular  character  under  consideration,  and 
consider  it  separately.      Character   contrast.      The    way    in 
which  any  of  the  characters  are  contrasted  should  also  be 
studied,  and  the  bearing  of  this  character-contrast  on  the  gen- 
eral idea  or  purpose  of  the  play,  considered.     The  characters 
may  be  similarly  contrasted  or  compared  with  those  in  the 
other  plays. 

e.  The  construction  of  the  play,  the  development  of  the  plot, 
must  be  examined  ;  also  the  use  of  the  dramatic  background, 
»'.  e.,  all  the  natural  surroundings  and  accessories  which  help 
to  heighten  the  tone  or  general  effect  of    the    work  as  a 
whole. 

/.  It  remains  for  the  student  to  sum  up  all  he  has  gained, 
and  endeavor  to  grasp  the  main  idea,  or  underlying  motive, 
which  contributes  to  the  artistic  unity  of  the  whole. 

4.  STUDY  OP  SPECIAL  PLAYS.  The  following  plays  are 
suggested  as  especially  suitable  for  school  use  :  Juliut  Ccuar, 
Merchant  of  Venice,  At  You  Like  It,  Twelfth  Night,  Mid- 
summer Nighft  Dream. 

For  somewhat  advanced  classes  :  Hamlet,  Macbeth,  Richard 
II.,  Henry  V.,  The  Tempett. 


152        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Study  of  Macbeth  for  advanced  class,  according  to  the  geuer* 
plan  above  suggested. 

(1)  Read  carefully  in  one  of  the  editions  given  above. 

(2)  Sources  of  the  plot.  See  Holinshed's  Chronicle, "  Variorum" 
edition  of  H.  H.  Furness,  and  Dowden's  Shakespeare  Primer. 
History  of  the  Period,  Holinshed,  etc. 

What  was  the  social  condition  of  Scotland  at  this-  time  ?  and 
how  did  its  civilization  compare  with  other  countries  ?  Was 
the  time  in  which  Macbeth  lived  an  age  of  superstition,  and 
was  Scotland  a  particularly  superstitious  country  ?  What 
was  the  law  as  to  witchcraft,  and  the  popular  belief,  in 
Shakespeare's  time  ?  (See  Scott's  Witchcraft  and  Demonology.) 

(3)  When  was  Macbeth  written  ?    To  which  period  does  it 
then  belong  ? 

(4)  Characters  of  Macbeth  and  of  Lady  Macbeth.     Give  an 
opinion  of  the  character  of  Macbeth  ;  how  much  do  you  con- 
sider he  was  influenced  by  the  witches'  prophecies  ?    Do  you 
think  he  had  any  idea  of  the  King's  murder  in  his  mind  before 
his  meeting  with  the  witches  ?    If  so,  what  is  there  in  the 
play  that  suggests  such  a  possibility  ?    What  is  the  effect  of 
Lady  Macbeth  on  her  husband  ?    Why  does  Macbeth  hesitate 
to  murder  Duncan  ?     Is  the  wickedness  of  the  action  the 
strongest  argument  against  it  in  Macbeth's  mind  ?    What  is 
the  effect  on  Macbeth's  character  of  yielding  to  this  tempta- 
tion  ?  does  he  show  any  remorse  ?    Show  some  point  in  which 
the  character  of  Macbeth  presents  a  contrast  to  that  of  Banquc . 
What  do  you  think  of  Lady  Macbeth  ?    How  does  she  com- 
pare with  Macbeth?    Which  hnd  the  greater  courage?    Which 
do  you  think  had  the  more  highly  organized  nature  ?    How 
does  the  character  of  Lady  Macbeth  compare  with  Goneril 
and  Regan  in  King  Lear,  and  why  should  the   former  be 
a  more  interesting  study,  and  call  forth  more  discussion  than 
the  two  latter?    Contrast  the  characters   of  Macbeth  and 
Hamlet. 

(5)  Construction  and  development  of  plot.     Note  that  Macbeth 
is  a  striking  instance  of  dramatic  unity.     One  source  of  unity 
to  be  found  in  the  rapid  and  logical  development  of  plot.    We 
find  great  quickness  of  action,  incident  follows  incident,  crime 


THE  BEYIYAL  OF  LEAKNING  153 

succeeds  to  crime,  with  a  velocity  which  in  itself  helps  to  give 
unity  of  tone. 

a.  State  the  extent  of  time  covered  by  the  whole  play. 

b.  Show  how  quickly  the  witches'  prophecies  were  fulfilled. 

Find  up  to  what  point  in  the  play  Macbeth  appears  success- 
ful. Then  note  his  series  of  failures.  Show  how  the  dra- 
matic background  is  suited  to  the  plot.  Compare  the  use  of 
natural  surroundings  in  this  and  other  plays.  In  what  other 
tragedy  does  a  storm  add  to  the  effect  ?  What  kind  of  play 
should  we  expect  from  the  background  of  the  opening  scene  ? 
What  natural  features  besides  the  storm  are  in  harmony  with 
all  that  follows  ?  Show  how  Shakespeare  has  selected  night 
instead  of  day  for  a  great  part  of  the  main  action. 

Collect  and  compare  frequent  allusions  to  darkness  and  to 
sleep  found  throughout  the  play. 

How  are  the  witches  in  keeping  with  the  tone  of  the  play  ? 
What  was  the  belief  concerning  witches  in  Macbeth's  time  ? 
How  do  they  suggest  the  Three  Fates  ?  Who  was  Hecate  ? 
Note  Shakespeare's  use  of  the  supernatural  in  this  and  other 
plays:  The  fairies  in  Midsummer  Night's  Dream;  Caliban 
and  Ariel  in  The  Tempest;  also  the  ghosts  that  appear  to 
murderers,  as  Julius  Caesar,  Richard  III.,  Banquo. 

(6)  Idea  or  motive  of  play.  The  student  should  by  this  time 
have  arrived  at  some  idea  concerning  the  underlying  motive  of 
the  play.  He  may  now  safely  test  this  by  comparing  his  own 
judgment  with  the  views  of  the  commentators.  For  reference 
v.  Biography  and  Criticism,  §  ii.  supra. 

Suggestions  for  Study  of  Julius  Ccesar.  a.  General  scope 
and  story  of  the  play;  sources  of  the  plot;  date;  place  in 
order  of  plays ;  relation  to  other  plays. 

b.   The  characters : 

CfEsar.  How  does  Shakespeare  here  present  him  ?  How 
does  Shakespeare  speak  of  him  in  other  plays  ?  Why  is  he 
subordinated  in  this  play  ?  We  can  conceive  of  a  drama  built 
up  around  Caesar  as  its  central  figure,  which  should  lead  up  to 
his  death  as  its  final  catastrophe,  and  in  which  all  our  sympa- 
thies should  be  enlisted  on  his  side.  Why  does  not  Shakes- 
peare adopt  this  method  1  Here  Csesar  drops  out  early  in  the 


154        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

action.  "What,  then,  gives  the  play  its  unity  ;  or  is  it  defective 
in  unity  ? 

Brutus.  Analyze  his  character.  Do  you  agree  with  the 
eulogy  pronounced  over  his  dead  body  ?  Is  he  more  or  less 
important  than  Caesar  in  the  action  ?  If  more,  explain  why. 

Cassius.  His  character.  Contrast  it  with  that  of  Brutus. 
How  is  his  superiority  to  Brutus  as  a  practical  man  of  affairs 
shown  in  the  play  ? 

Contrast  Brutus  and  Caesar  ;  Cassius  and  Caesar.  What  is 
the  immediate  cause  of  Caesar's  fall  ?  Contrast  this  with  cause 
of  the  failure  of  Brutus.  Cite  other  Shakespearian  characters 
whose  fall  is  attributable  to  causes  similar  to  those  which 
ruined  Caesar  or  Brutus.  Discuss  other  instances  of  success 
and  failure  in  Shakespeare. 

c.  Unity  of  action.     From  what  is  it  derived  ?    Point  out  the 
unity  of  action  and  its  cause  in  George  Eliot's  Middlemarch, 
in  Hawthorne's  Marble  Faun,  and  in  Tennyson's  IdyUs  of  the 
King.     On  what  does  it  depend  in  Julius  Caesar? 

General  thoughts  on  the  play.  Can  any  more  general  reason 
be  given  for  the  failure  of  Brutus  than  the  one  assigned  ? 
What  does  Shakespeare  tell  us  Brutus  and  Cassius  really  fight 
against  ? 

d.  Further  points  to  be  considered.    Study  may  also  be  made 
of  Shakespeare's  treatment  of  the  mob.     Cf.t  on  this  point, 
Coriolanus,  Henry  VI.,  etc. 

FBANCIS   BACON 

The  greatest  names  in  Elizabethan  literature  are 
those  of  the  dramatists  and  the  poets,  yet  the  intel- 

-„    ,.   *.        lectual    advance    of    the    time    showed 

Elizabethan    . 

prose.  itself,  also,  in  a  rapid  development  of 

prose.  English  prose  had  made  but 
little  progress  between  the  time  of  Wyclif  and  the 
middle  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Such  works  as 
Malory's  Morte  d' Arthur  (1485),  More's  History  of 
Jlichard  III.  (written  1513),  and  Tyndale's  Trans 


THE  BE  VITAL  OF  LEABNINQ  155 

lotion  of  the  BibU  (1525),  show  prose  struggling 
toward  a  more  honorable  place  ;  but  it  is  not  until 
the  early  years  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  when  life 
and  thought  were  expanding  on  every  side,  that  the 
art  of  English  prose-writing  may  be  said  to  fairly 
begin.  The  effect  of  the  Renaissance  may  be  seen 
in  the  learned  prose  of  Ascham  (1515-1568),  and  in 
the  enphuistic  intricacies  of  John  Lyly  (1553-1606). 
Literary  criticism  springs  into  life  in  such  works  as 
Sidney's  Defense  of  Poesy  (1580-1581),  or  Putten- 
ham's  Art  of  English  Poesy  (1589).  Prose  fiction 
is  represented  by  Sidney's  elaborate  romance,  the 
Arcadia  (1590),  and  by  countless  shorter  stories 
from  the  rapid  pens  of  Peele,  Greene,  and  other 
struggling  dramatists.  Besides  all  this  we  have,  in 
the  reigns  of  Elizabeth  and  James,  an  abundant  prose 
literature  of  history  and  travel,  and  innumerable 
pamphlets  on  the  questions  of  the  day.  In  theology, 
Richard  Hooker  published  The  Laws  of  Ecclesiastical 
Polity  (first  four  books,  1594)  ;  a  great  work,  which 
has  been  called  "  the  first  monument  of  splendid 
literary  prose  that  we  possess."*  This  growth  of 
English  prose,  in  many  directions,  can  only  be  hinted 
at,  nor  can  we  stop  to  consider  Fuller,  Jeremy  Taylor, 
or  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  writers  who  occupy  a  high 
place  in  the  literature  of  the  early  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, by  their  quaintness  or  majesty  of  style.  Out 
of  this  wide  range  we  will  select  one  writer,  Francis 
Bacon,  for  a  somewhat  more  extended  study. 

Francis  Bacon  was  born  in   London,  January  22, 
1561.     His   father   was   Sir   Nicholas    Bacon,   Lord 
*  Englith  Literature  Primer,  S.  Brooke,  p.  79. 


156         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Keeper  of  the  Great  Seal,  and  one  of  the  most 
trusted  of  the  early  statesmen  of  Elizabeth  ;  a  yet 

more  famous  statesman,  Lord  Burleisrh, 

Bacon's  life.  ,.  ° .' 

was  his  uncle  by  marriage,     r  rom  his 

earliest  years,  Bacon  was  thus  connected  with  the 
court  and  with  public  life.  When  he  was  eighteen, 
his  prospects  were  greatly  changed  by  the  sudden 
death  of  his  father.  Bacon,  who  was  the  }Tounger 
son,  was  thus  left  insufficiently  provided  for,  and  was 
compelled  to  make  his  own  v?ay  in  the  world  He 
accordingly  entered  upon  the  study  of  the  law,  and 
although  Lord  Burleigh  showed  no  disposition  to 
assist  him,  his  advance  was  exceedingly  rapid.  He 
was  made  a  barrister  in  1582,  Solicitor  General  in 
1607,  Attorney  General  in  1613,  and  Lord  Chancellor 
in  1617.  I 'rom  this  brilliant  public  success  we  get 
no  idea  of  Bacon's  inner  life  and  deepest  aspirations. 
He  declared,  in  a  letter  to  Lord  Burleigh,  written  at 
the  outset  of  his  career,  "  I  confess  that  I  have  as 
vast  contemplative  ends,  as  I  have  moderate  civil 
ends  ;  for  I  have  taken  all  knowledge  to  be  my  prov- 
ince." He  early  resolved  that  he  would  strive  to 
benefit  the  race  by  the  discovery  of  truth  ;  and, 
although  he  seems  at  times  to  have  been  diverted  by 
worldly  necessities  or  worldly  ambitions,  he  was 
always  true  at  heart  to  his  lofty  purpose.  From  his 
inability  to  reconcile  contending  interests — t-lxe  We 
of  place  and  power,  with  the  unselfish  devotion  to 
knowledge — springs  the  tragedy  of  Bacon's  life.  In 
1621  Bacon's  worldly  ambitions  were  overthrown  at 
a  stroke.  He  was  accused  of  having  taken  bribes  in 
his  office  of  Lord  Chancellor.  He  piteously  confessed 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  157 

the  charge,  and  was  henceforth  a  ruined  man  in 
reputation  and  in  fortune.  Bacon  spent  the  remainder 
.„„  his  life  in  the  composition  of  some  of  the  great 
philosophical  and  scientific  works  on  which  his  fame 
chiefly  rests.  With  Bacon,  the  philosopher  and 
scientist,  however,  the  student  of  English  literature 
is  not  directly  concerned.  The  story  of  his  closing 
years  is  very  pitiable.  "The  Lord  Chancellor,"  said 
his  former  patron,  the  young  favorite,  Buckingham, 
"  the  Lord  Chancellor  is  so  sick  that  he  cannot  live 
long."  He  still  showed  a  brave  front  to  the  world, 
and  moved  about  with  a  courtly  retinue,  like  the 
shadow  of  his  former  self,  so  that  Prince  Charles 
said  of  him  :  "  This  man  scorns  to  go  out  in  a  snuff  ;  " 
but,  for  all  this,  the  wound  was  deep,  and  bled 
inwardly.  He  caught  cold  from  exposure,  while 
engaged  in  a  scientific  experiment,  and  died  a  few 
days  later,  April  9,  1626. 

Bacon  is  generally  considered  the  greatest  man  of 
the  Elizabethan  age,  with  the  single  and  inevitable 
exception  of  Shakespeare.  Dean  Church  calls  him 
"  the  brightest,  richest,  largest  mind  but  one,  in  the 
age  which  had  seen  Shakespeare  and  his  fellows." 
Yet,  speaking  strictly,  Bacon  holds  a  place  in  English 
literature  almost  by  accident,  and  in  spite  of  him- 
self. He  deliberately  chose  to  be  a  Latin  rather  than 
an  English  writer,  having  no  confidence  in  the  sta- 
bility of  his  own  language,  and  believing  that  it 
would  "  at  one  time  or  another  play  the  bank-rowte 
[bankrupt]  with  books."  He  even  went  so  far  as  to 
have  liia  Advancement  of  Learning  translated  from 
English  into  Latin,  so  convinced  was  he  of  the  superi 


158       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

ority  of  the  latter  tongue.  This  book  in  its  original 
form,  the  Essays,  Tfie  History  of  Henry  VII., 
and  a  fragment,  The  New  Atlantis,  are  substantially 
all  that  English  prose  can  claim  out  of  the  great 
mass  of  Bacon's  writings. 

Yet,  while  Bacon  thought  little  of  his  work  as  an 
English  writer,  and  threw  the  weight  of  his  immense 
energy  in  other  directions,  it  is  his  English  works 
that  have  best  held  their  own.  In  Raleigh's  prose 
we  encounter  more  impassioned  and  noble  eloquence, 
as  in  those  rare  places  in  the  History  of  the  World, 
where  he  seems  to  suddenly  leave  the  ground  and 
soar  in  the  celestial  spaces  ;  but  Bacon's  style  has 
a  more  even  excellence.  Incidental  and  slight  as 
Bacon's  connection  was  with  the  literature  of  his 
own  language,  a  high  critical  authority  has  recently 
pronounced  him  "  one  of  the  greatest  writers  of 
English  prose  before  the  accession  of  Charles  I."  * 

Incredible  as  it  would  have  seemed  to  Bacon,  it  is 
by  the  Essays  that  he  is  best  known  t«  the  general 

reader.     By  an  "  essay,"  Bacon   meant 
His  Essays.  f  . 

the  nrst  trial,  or  weighing,  of  a  subject, 

as  distinguished  from  a  finished  treatise.f  His 
Essays  are  pithy  jottings  on  great  subjects,  informally 
set  down,  with  no  attempt  to  carry  the  thought 
to  its  full  or  natural  conclusion.  They  read  like 
the  notebook  of  a  profound  thinker,  a  shrewd 
observer  of  life,  a  politic  and  active  man  of  affairs. 
They  are  brief,  suggestive,  without  an  ornament,  but 

*  Saintsbury's  Elizabethan  Literature,  p.  209. 
fi&«ay=assay=a  test,   or  examination  of   metals,  O.  F., 
assai;  Lat.f  exaffium.     See  Skeat's  Etymological  Dictionary, 


THE  REVIVAL.  OF  LEARNING  159 

closely  packed  with  thought.  They  give  us  the  con- 
centrated results  of  Bacon's  experience,  and  are  often 
comparable  to  the  proverbial  sayings  in  which  wise 
men  have  delighted  since  the  days  of  Solomon. 
Often  they  go  to  the  heart  of  the  matter  with  on« 
quick  thrust,  as  in  the  famous  sentence  :  "  Prosperity 
is  the  blessing  of  the  Old  Testament,  adversity  is  the 
blessing  of  the  New,  which  carrieth  the  greater 
benediction  and  the  clearer  revelation  of  God's 
favor."  * 

Bacon's  own  account  of  the  object  of  the  Essays  is 
that  he"  endeavored  to  make  them  not  vulgar,  but  of 
a  nature  whereof  much  should  be  found  in  experience 
and  little  in  books  ;  so  that  they  should  be  neither 
repetitions  nor  fancies  ";  and  he  desires  that  they 
should  "  come  home  to  men's  business  and  bosoms." 

Three  editions  of  the  Essays  were  published  in 
Bacon's  lifetime  ;  the  first  in  1597,  the  second  in 
1612,  and  the  third  in  1625.  The  first  edition  con- 
tained only  ten  essays,  but  by  the  third  edition  the 
number  had  been  increased  to  fifty-eight. 

We  are  apt  to  undervalue  these  essays  on  the  first 
reading,  and  it  is  only  through  long  familiarity  that 
their  wisdom  and  depth  really  reveal  themselres^ 
Some  of  them,  such  as  the  essay  "  Of  Great  Place,** 
exhibit  the  high  purposes  of  Bacon  in  strange  and! 
melancholy  contrast  to  his  actual  performance.  His 
life  was  a  tragic  contradiction,  and  in  such  declara- 
tions we  ought  not  to  believe  him  deliberately 
insincere.  In  thinking  of  his  shortcomings  TTC 
should  remember,  also,  the  nobility  of  his  ideals. 
*  Essay  on  "  Adversity." 


160        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

"If  ever  a  man,"  says  Dean  Church,  "  had  a  great 
object  in  life  and  pursued  it  through  good  and  evil 
report,  through  ardent  hope  and  keen  disappoint- 
ment to  the  end,  with  unwearied  patience  and 
unshaken  faith,  it  was  Bacon,  when  he  sought  for  the 
improvement  of  human  knowledge,  for  the  glory  of 
God  and  the  relief  of  man's  estate."  * 

SUMMARY    OP   ELIZABETHAN   LITERATURE 

We  have  seen  England,  lifted  by  the  common 
wave  of  thought  and  emotion,  find  an  outlet  for  her 
richer  and  deeper  experience  in  the  creation  of 
innumerable  works  in  every  department  of  literature. 
To  the  careful  student  of  history,  the  vast  possibilities, 
the  latent  powers  of  the  English  nature  are  apparent 
from  the  first  ;  the  genius  of  Chaucer  strengthens 
his  confidence  in  the  correctness  of  his  estimate,  and 
he  sees  in  the  supreme  literary  greatness  of  England, 
under  the  kindly  influence  of  the  Renaissance,  the 
splendid  confirmation  of  this  view. 

We  have  approached  this  many-sided  and  inex- 
haustible period,  chiefly  through  the  study  of  three 
of  its  greatest  men,  Spenser,  Shakespeare,  and  Bacon. 
The  first  is  supreme  as  a  poet  of  dream-land,  the 
second  supreme  among  all  poets,  the  last  is  the  great 
thinker  -who  stands  at  the  gateway  of  our  modern 
science.  These  men  are  indeed  pre-eminent,  but 
other  writers  crowd  about  them,  each  great  enough  to 
stand  first  in  a  less  abundant  time.  The  extent  and 
richness  of  Elizabethan  literature  has  made  our  study 

*  Church's  Life  of  Bacon. 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  161 

most  limited,  for  so  "  spacious  "  is  *he  time  that  oa 
every  hand  are  beautiful  regions  which  we  cannot 
even  pretend  to  explore.  For  instance  there  is  all 
the  literature  of  criticism,  the  books  in  which  Sir 
Philip  Sidney,  William  Webbe,  and  George  Putten- 
ham  discuss  the  art  of  poetry  ;  there  is  the  literature 
of  travel,  books  such  as  Hakluyt's  Voyages  (1589),  in 
which  the  narratives  of  great  navigators  like  Sir 
Humphrey  Gilbert  or  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  were 
collected  ;  there  are  all  the  books  of  short  poems, 
Tottel's  Miscellany,  England^s  Helicon,  The  Para- 
dise of  Dainty  Devices,  and  the  like,  which  tell  us 
how  prodigal  the  country  was  in  song  in  that  full 
time  when  England  was  "  a  nest  of  singing  birds." 
Then,  too,  there  are  series  of  sonnets,  such  as  those 
of  Spenser,  Sidney,  William  Drummond  (1585-1649) ; 
the  last  perhaps  the  most  Italian  in  tone  and  among 
the  most  beautiful  of  them  all.  We  have  spoken 
briefly  of  the  drama,  but  only  extended  study  can 
make  us  realize  its  power  and  richness,  the  great 
host  of  busy  playwrights  and  their  extraordinary 
vigor  and  productiveness.  We  have  alluded  to  the 
prose  writers,  but  we  must  pass  by  the  work  of 
historian,  theologian,  romance-writer,  and  antiquarian, 
almost  without  mention.  We  are  forced  to  leave 
these  regions  behind  us  unexplored,  but  it  will  help 
us  to  a  firmer  hold  on  this  revival  of  learning  period, 
if,  before  leaving  it,  we  fix  in  our  minds  certain  points 
of  chronology  that  rise  like  milestones  along  the 
way.  In  doing  this  we  must  remember  that  such 
arbitrary  divisions  of  literature  are  convenient,  but 
not  always  exactly  true,  for  literary  periods  are  not 


162       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

in  reality  thus  sharply  defined,  but  one  flows  almost 
imperceptibly  into  the  other. 

First  (dr.  1491-czr.  1513).  We  may  associate 
the  last  ten  years  of  the  fifteenth  and  the  first  ten  or 
thirteen  years  of  the  sixteenth  centuries  with  that 
band  of  teachers  and  educational  reformers  who 
may  be  called  the  missionaries  of  the  new  learning. 
This  period  reaches  from  about  1491,  the  year  when 
Grocyn  lectured  on  Greek  at  Oxford,  to  about  1510 
or  1513,  when  Colet  founded  or  completed  the  gram- 
mar school  of  St.  Paul.  Conspicuous  in  this  time  are 
Grocyn,  Erasmus,  Linacre,  Colet,  and,  in  his  young 
manhood,  Sir  Thomas  More. 

Second  (1513-1557).  During  this  time  the  influ- 
ence of  Italy  begins  to  be  apparent  in  English 
poetry.  Henry  VIII.  is  a  patron  of  learning  ;  More 
publishes  his  Utopia,  Hey  wood  his  Interludes,  Roger 
Ascham  his  Toxophilus  (1544),  Coverdale  and  Cran- 
mer  their  Translations  of  the  Bible  (1535  and  1537). 
Phaer's  Virgil,  Hey  wood's  Seneca,  and  other  transla- 
tions of  the  classics  appear.  We  note  in  Ralph 
JRoister  Doister  the  beginning  of  regular  comedy. 
On  the  whole  the  new  learning  is  making  itself  ap- 
parent in  literature,  and  the  time  is  full  of  the  signs 
of  promise. 

Titird  (1557-1579).  This  period  may  be  remem- 
bered  as  beginning  with  the  publication  of  Tottel's 
Miscellany  and  ending  with  that  of  Spenser's  Shep- 
herd's Calendar.  During  this  interval  the  coming 
of  a  mighty  outburst  draws  nearer,  the  work  of 
preparation  goes  on  in  the  publication  of  numerous 
classical  translations;  Sackville  writes  his  Indite- 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LEARNING  163 

tion  to  the  Mirror  for  Magistrates  (1563);  short  poems 
and  ballads  appear  in  extraordinary  numbers  ;  the 
first  regular  tragedy  is  written,  and  innumerable 
Italian  stories  become  popular.  It  is  a  time  of 
growth,  of  preparation,  and  of  expectancy. 

Fourth  (1579-1637).  Between  these  years  is  the 
'  high  noon  of  the  English  Renaissance.  The  period 
begins  with  the  Shepherd's  Calendar,  the  decisive 
entrance  into  literature  of  the  greatest  poet  England 
had  produced  since  Chaucer.  The  ten  years  succeed- 
ing are  marked  by  the  rapid  advance  of  the  drama 
under  Lyly,  Peele,  Greene,  Lodge,  and  Marlowe,  the 
immediate  precursors  of  Shakespeare.  In  1590,  with 
the  first  installment  of  The  Faerie  Queene  and  the 
advent  of  Shakespeare,  we  are  at  the  opening  of 
twenty  of  the  most  glorious  years  in  the  whole 
twelve  centuries  of  the  literature.  From  about  1613, 
when  Shakespeare  ceased  to  write,  we  note  the  slow 
decline  of  this  creative  energy,  and  in  1637  two 
events  occur  which  emphasize  for  us  the  ending  of 
the  old  and  the  beginning  of  the  new.  In  that  year 
Ben  Jonson  died,  the  greatest  surviving  representa- 
tive of  the  glory  of  the  Elizabethans,  and  in  that 
year  also  there  was  published  the  Comus  of  the 
young  Puritan,  John  Milton.  Thus  the  old  order 
was  changing,  yielding  place  to  the  new. 


CHAPTER  H 

THE  PURITAH  IK  LITERATURE 
THE   ENGLAND    OF   MILTON 

ALTHOUGH  Shakespeare  and  Milton  are  familiarly 
linked  together  in  our  ordinary  speech  as  the  two 
Shakespeare  greatest  poets  of  England,  in  the  whole 
and  Milton  spirit  and  nature  of  their  work  they 
spirit^f  dif-  have  hardly  anything  in  common.  It  is 
ferent  times,  not  merely  that  they  are,  for  the  most 
part,  distinguished  in  separate  provinces  of  poetry  ; 
that  Shakespeare  is  above  all  the  dramatic,  and  Mil- 
ton the  epic  poet  of  the  literature;  the  difference 
lies  much  deeper,  and  declares  itself  unmistakably  at 
almost  every  point.  Now,  this  is  not  entirely  due  to 
an  inborn,  personal  difference  in  the  genius  of  these 
two  representative  poets  ;  it  is  due  also  to  the  differ- 
ence in  the  spirit  of  the  times  they  represent.  For 
in  a  sense  even  Shakespeare  was  "  of  an  age,"  as  well 
as  "  for  all  time."  *  So  far  as  we  can  guess  from  his 
work,  he  seems  to  have  shared  the  orthodox  politics 
of  the  Tudor  times,  distrusting  the  actions  of  the 
populace,  and  stanch  in  his  support  of  the  power 
of  the  king.  In  the  true  spirit  of  the  Renaissance, 
Shakespeare's  work  is  taken  up  chiefly  with  humanity 

*  "  He  was  not  of  an  age,  but  for  all  time."    From  Ben 
Jonson's  poem  "  To  the  Memory  of  Shakespeare." 


THE  PURITAN  IN  LITERATURE  165 

in  this  world,  rather  than  with  its  relations  to  any 
other  ;  his  dramas  are  alive  with  the  crowding  inter- 
ests and  activities  which  came  with  the  Revival  of 
Learning.  But  the  England  in  which  Milton  lived 
and  worked  was  stirred  by  far  different  emotions  ; 
its  finest  spirits  were  inspired  by  far  different  ideals. 
Milton  interprets  and  expresses  the  England  of  Puri- 
tanism, as  Shakespeare  does  the  England  of  Eliza- 
beth, and  to  understand  the  difference  in  the  spirit  of 
their  poetry,  we  must  turn  to  history  and  grasp  the 
broad  distinction  between  the  times  they  respectively 
represent. 

At  first  sight  the  change  from   the   England  of 
Shakespeare  to  that  of  Milton  seems  an  abrupt  one. 
In  point  of  actual  time  the  two  poets  are   Elizabethan 
close  together,  for  at  the  death  of  Shakes-   and  Puritan 
peare  Milton  was  eight  years  old.     But  En&land- 
little  more  than  half    a  century  lies   between   that 
England  in  which  loyalty  to  queen  and  country  so 
triumphed  over  religious  differences  that  Romanist 
and  Protestant  fought  the  Armada  side  by  side,  and 
that  England  which  hurried  Charles  I.  to  the  scaffold, 
or  in  which  Cromwell  declared  :    "  If  I  met  the  king 
in  battle  I  would  shoot  him  as  soon  as  any  other 
man."     Yet  in  reality  this  change  of   the  nation's 
mood  was  not  hasty  or  unaccountable,  but  the  natural 
result  of  a  long  and  steady  development. 

We  spoke  of  the  Renaissance  as  the  re-birth  of 
the  religious  as  well  as  of  the  intellectual  life  of 
Europe,  and  we  saw  that  while  in  Italy  the  new  life 
of  the  mind  took  form  in  what  we  call  the  Revival 
of  Learning,  in  Germany  the  new  life  of  the  spirit 


166       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

had  its  outcome  in  that  religious  awakening  we  call 
the  Reformation.  If  in  Italy  the  Renaissance  meant 
freedom  of  thought,  in  Germany  it  meant  freedom 
of  conscience.  The  Revival  of  Learning  and  the 
Reformation  entered  into  England  almost  side  by 
side.  If  the  enthusiasm  for  the  new  learning,  the 
color  of  luxury,  and  the  "  enchantments  of  the 
Circes,"  had  entered  England  from  Italy,  something 
also  of  the  awakening  of  conscience  and  the  protest 
against  Romanism  had  come  from  Germany,  to  find 
a  deep  response  in  the  kindred  spirit  of  Teutonic 
England. 

In  our  study  of  the  Elizabethan  period  we  have  fol- 
lowed the  first  of  these  two  influences.     Let  us  look 

a  moment  at  the  second.     Almost  from 
TheReforma- 
tioninEng-  the  first,  the  tone  of   the  new  learning 

kad.  in  England   had  been    colored   by   the 

inherently  religious  temper  of  the  English  character. 
The  knowledge  of  Greek  which  John  Colet  gained  in 
semi-pagan  Italy  he  applied  to  the  study  of  the  New 
Testament.  Educational  reformer  as  he  was,  he  had 
the  image  of  the  child  Christ  placed  over  the  head- 
master's desk  in  St.  Paul's  Grammar  School,  with  the 
inscription,  "Hear  ye  Him.*  Just  as  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  study  of  Greek  at  Oxford  changed  the 
horizon  of  the  English  mind,  so  the  introduction  of 
Tyndale's  translation  of  the  Bible  was  an  incalculable 
spiritual  force.  "  K  God  spare  my  life,"  Tyndale  had 
said  to  a  learned  opponent,  "  ere  many  years  I  will 
«ause  that  the  boy  that  driveth  the  plow  shall  know 

*  For  account  of  Colet,  read  Green's  History  of  the  English 
fleopU,  vol.  ii.  p.  79,  etc. 


THE  PURITAN  IN  LITERATURE  167 

more  of  the  Scriptures  than  thou  dost."  And  year 
after  year  the  inestimable  influence  of  an  ever-widen- 
ing knowledge  of  the  Bible  was  at  work  in  thousands 
of  English  households. 

Beginning  among  the  upper  stratum  of  society,  the 
new  learning  had  worked  downward  until  it  touched 
the  people.  But  the  changes  wrought 
by  direct  contact  with  the  English  Bible, 
if  slower,  were  even  more  vital  and  more 
extended.  The  Bible  became  the  literature  of  the 
people,  telling  the  poorest  and  plainest  of  the  essen- 
tial things  of  life  in  words  which  all  could  under- 
stand. If  we  find  a  typical  picture  in  the  crowd  of 
London  shopkeepers  and  prentices  crowding  the  pit 
of  the  "  Fortune  "  or  the  "  Globe,"  we  find  one  no  less 
typical  in  the  eager  throngs  gathered  about  the  reader 
of  the  Bible  in  the  nave  of  St.  Paul's.  "  The  disclosure 
of  the  stores  of  Greek  literature  had  wrought  the  revo- 
lution of  the  Renaissance.  The  disclosure  of  the 
older  mass  of  Hebrew  literature  wrought  the  revolu- 
tion of  the  Reformation."  * 

With  this  new  idea  of  religious  liberty,  the  idea  of 
political  liberty  became  closely  associated.  Stimu- 
lated and  emancipated  by  greater  intel- 


lectual  and  religious  freedom  of  inquiry,   an*  politi- 

/'    cal   liberty 
men  bean  to  scrutinize  and  discuss  the  con- 


whole    theory   of    government.       They  nected. 
grew  restless  under  the  arbitrary  rule  of  the  early 
Stuarts  as  their  minds  rose  to  the  conception  of  their 
supreme  obligation   to  a  higher  law  ;    to  a  Power 

*  Green's  Hittory  of  the  English  People,  vol.  iii.  p.  11.    The 
•whole  passage  from  pp.  9  to  13  may  be  read  in  class. 


168       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

above  the  will  of  the  king  in  the  state,  above  the 
will  of  man  in  the  kingdom  of  God.  In  the  early 
part  of  the  seventeenth  century  many  things  com- 
bined to  call  out  and  develop  these  new  feelings. 
The  middle  classes  had  advanced  greatly  during 
Elizabeth's  reign,  in  prosperity,  influence,  and  intel- 
ligence ;  the  danger  from  Spain  was  at  an  end,  and 
men  were  free  to  give  themselves  up  to  matters  at 
home.  But  the  natural  growth  of  the  nation  toward 
a  greater  political  and  religious  freedom  was  met  by 
petulant  opposition.  Elizabeth  had  been  wise  enough 
to  know  when  and  how  to  yield  to  the  will  of  her 
Parliament  and  people,  but  it  was  characteristic  of 
...  the  Stuarts  to  take  a  wrong  position  and 

rule  of  the  hold  to  it  with  an  obstinate  and  reckless 
early  Stuarts,  tenacity.  The  unkingly  James  (1603- 
1625)  flaunted  what  he  considered  the  "  Divine 
Right"  of  his  kingship  in  the  face  of  an  exasperated 
England.  In  the  early  years  of  the  following  reign 
(Charles  I.,  1625-1649),  the  growing  Puritan  senti- 
ment was  outraged  by  brutal  persecution,  the  rising 
spirit  of  liberty  insulted  by  flagrant  violations  of  the 
long  established  and  sacred  political  rights  of  Eng- 
lishmen. Thus  the  England  that  rose  up  in  protest 
against  the  severities  of  Archbishop  Laud  and  the 
tyranny  and  duplicity  of  Charles,  was  on  fire  with 
other  interests  and  other  aspirations  than  that  of 
Elizabeth  ;  its  energies  were  centered  upon  two- 
great  issues — politics  and  religion.  In  the  one,  it 
was  determined  to  "vindicate  its  ancient  liberties"; 
in  the  other,  it  "  reasoned  of  righteousness  and  judg- 
ment to  come."  Among  its  great  leaders  in  politics 


THE  PURITAN  IN  LITERATURE  169 

veere  Eliot,  Hampden,  Pyra,  and  Cromwell ;  in  litera- 
ture it  spoke  in  the  strong,  simple,  biblical  prose  of 
John  Banyan,  a  poor  tinker;  its  poet  was  John  Milton. 

LATER  ELIZABETHAN  LITERATURE 

But  while  the  new  ways  of  looking  at  the  deepest 
questions  of  life,  which  for  years  had  been  agitating 
the  Puritan  element  in  England,  were  thus  coming  to 
the  surface  in  history  and  in  literature,  during  the 
early  part  of  the  seventeenth  century  many  continued 
to  write  in  the  general  manner  and  spirit  of  the 
Elizabethans.  This  later  Elizabethan  literature  lies 
outside  our  present  plan  of  study,  but  it  cannot  be 
passed  over  without  a  few  words. 

The  group  of  dramatists  immediately  preceding 
Shakespeare  (see  p.  129)  had  been  followed  by  a  num. 
ber  of  men  of  genius  who  had  the 
advantage  of  writing  at  a  time  when 
the  theater  was  a  more  recognized 
institution,  and  the  general  form  of  the  drama  had 
been  fixed  by  successful  experiment.  Ben  Jonson, 
whose  first  play,  Every  Man  in  his  Humor,  was 
brought  out  about  1596-1598,  is  usually  considered 
as  the  greatest  of  Shakespeare's  fellow-playwrights  ; 
he  doggedly  fought  his  way  to  the  front  in  the  face 
of  many  obstacles,  wrote  many  plays  and  masks,  and 
after  Shakespeare's  death  became  the  most  prominent 
man  of  letters  in  England.  Beaumont  and  Fletcher, 
Massinger,  Ford,  Chapman,  Dekker,  and  Marston 
are  a  few  of  the  most  famous  of  these  dramatists,  and 
we  see  the  influence  of  Italy  in  such  plays  as  Web- 
ster's Duchess  ofJMalfi,  and  Vittoria  Corombona*  or 


170       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

in   the   intense    and   passionate   tragedies   of   CyriJ 
Tourneur.     Nevertheless,  the  decline   of  the  Eliza 
bethan  drama  had  begun  before  Shakespeare's  death. 
_      .  Unlike    Shakespeare,   Ben   Jonson    was 

and  decline  not  content  to  "  hold,  as  'twere,  the 
of  drama.  mirrOr  up  to  nature,"  *  and  show  th» 
world  of  men  and  women  as  it  actually  existed  :  he 
thought  that  the  poet's  business  was  to  point  a  moral 
and  to  reform  society.  He  ridiculed  the  abuses  and 
fashionable  follies  of  the  time  by  making  the  person* 
of  his  dramas  represent  the  peculiar  hobbies  or 
"  humors  "  of  men,  but  in  doing  this  his  drama  lost  in 
faithfulness  to  life  through  a  method  which  inclined 
him  to  make  the  mere  caricature  of  what  we  cali  a 
"  fad  "  take  the  place  of  a  character.  The  method  of 
Jonson,  great  as  he  was,  was  thus  a  distinct  falling 
off  from  that  of  Shakespeare. 

Apart  from  this,  the  decline  of  the  drama  is  closely 
associated  with  the  increase  of  the  Puritans,  am*ng 
Puritan hos-  w^om  were  its  bitterest  opponents.     In 
tilitytothe    the  eai'ly  seventeenth  century  this  i»os- 
stage.  tility  to  the  stage  increased  ;  unsuccess- 

ful attempts  were  made  (1619-1631-1633)  to  suppress 
Blackfriars  Theater,  and  the  representation  of  plays 
on  Sunday  was  prohibited.  Many  of  the  more 
respectable  people  stayed  away  from  the  theaters 
altogether,  while  those  who  came  demanded  plays  of 
a  more  and  more  depraved  character.  Finally,  about 
the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War  (1642)  the  theaters 
were  closed  altogether,  and  the  drama  almost  ceased 
until  the  Restoration  (1660). 

•  Hamlet,  act  iiL  scene  2. 


THE  PURITAN  IN  LITERATURE  171 

THB    SEVENTEENTH    CENTUEY    LYKISTS 

Most  of  the  poetry  of  the  early  seventeenth  een- 
tury  follows  the  general  lines  laid  down  by  the  Eliz- 
abethans, but  with  an  obvious  loss  of  creative  power, 
and  with  less  freshness,  vigor,  and  depth.  The  first 
enthusiasm  awakened  by  the  coming  of  the  new 
learning  was  largely  spent,  and  men's  energies  were 
beginning  to  go  out  in  new  directions.  Deprived  of 
the  strong  inner  impulse  which  sustained  the  earlier 
writers,  poetry  became  more  light,  trifling,  and 
affected.  Dr.  John  Donne  (1573-1631),  a  learned 
man  and  a  genuine  poet,  delighted  in  a  style  of  poetry 
often  so  far-fetched  and  fantastic  as  to  deprive  it  of 
much  of  its  value  in  the  eyes  of  later  readers,  and 
there  arose  a  group  of  graceful  if  somewhat  artificial 
lyric  poets  who  contented  themselves  with  writing 
slight  and  pretty  songs.  Among  these  are  Richard 
Lovelace  (1618-1658),  Thomas  Carew  (1598-1639?), 
and  Sir  John  Suckling  (1609-1641).  Each  of  these 
men  holds  an  assured  though  minor  place  in  litera- 
ture by  virtue  of  comparatively  few  poems  ;  yet  each 
has  contributed  to  it  at  least  one  lyric  which  has 
become  a  classic.  The  same  fantastic  spirit  which 
we  have  noted  in  Donne  runs  through  much  of  their 
work,  and  it  is  also  distinctly  traceable  in  that  of  a 
group  of  poets  in  other  respects  widely  separated. 
These  are  the  religious  poets,  George  Herbert 
(1593-1633),  Richard  Crashaw  (1613-1650?),  Henry 
Vaughan  (1622-1695?),  and  Francis 
Quarles  (1592-1644).  Robert  Herrick  *«£ert  Har' 
(1591-1674),  rises  above  these  by  his 
greater  simplicity  and  directness,  and  in  the  finer 


172       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

quality  of  his  lyrical  gift.  His  limpid  and  altogether 
charming  verse  is  troubled  by  no  depth  of  thought  or 
storm  of  passion.  The  most  of  his  verse  reflects  the 
pagan  spirit  of  those  who  lie  at  ease  in  the  warm  sun- 
shine ;  content  to  enjoy,  they  sigh  that  life  is  but  a  day, 
and  lament  as  the  lengthening  shadow  draws  near. 
The  closing  verse  of  his  poem,  Corinna's  going  a- 
Maying,  is  a  good  example  of  his  familiar  mood  :  the 
inevitable  chill  of  regret  creeps  into  the  sunshiny 
lyric  of  May  day,  and  his  laughter  ends  in  a  sigh  : 

"  Come,  let  us  go,  while  we  are  in  our  prime  I 
And  take  the  harmless  folly  of  the  time  ! 

We  shall  grow  old  apace,  and  die 

Before  we  know  our  liberty. 

Our  life  is  short ;  and  our  days  run 

As  fast  away  as  does  the  sun  : 
And  as  a  vapor,  or  a  drop  of  rain 
Once  lost,  can  ne'er  be  found  again  : 

So  when  you  or  I  are  made 

A  fable,  song,  or  fleeting  shade  ; 

All  love,  all  liking,  all  delight 

Lies  drowned  with  us  in  endless  night. 
Then  while  time  serves,  and  we  are  but  decaying, 
Come,  my  Corinna  !  come,  let's  go  a-Maying." 

There  is  a  captivating  naturalness  and  freshness  in 
Herrick's  note  ;  the  rural  England  of  his  time  is 
green  forever  in  his  verse,  the  hedgerows  are  abloom, 
the  Maypoles  gay  with  garlands.  He  sings 

**  Of  brooks,  of  blossoms,  buds  and  bowers. 
Of  April,  May,  and  June,  and  July  flowers."* 


THE  PURITAN  EN  LITERATURE  173 

In  Herrick's  time  England  was  racked  with  civil 
war,  but  neither  the  strife  of  religions  nor  the 
tumults  in  the  state  seem  to  shatter  his  Arcadia  ; 
while  king  and  Parliament  are  in  deadly  grapple, 
Herrick  sings  his  dainty  love-songs  to  Julia  and  Au- 
thea,  and  babbles  "  of  green  fields." 

In  the  midst  of  such  poetry  as  this,  slight,  charm- 
ing,  or  fantastic,  there  rises  the  mighty  voice  of 
Milton.  In  Lycidas,  which  may  be  said 


to   conclude   the   poems   of    liis   earlier       " 


period,  Milton,  too,  asks  the  pagan 
question,  "  Seeing  that  life  is  short,  is  it  not  better 
to  onjoy  ?  "  but  only  to  meet  it  with  triumphant 
denial.  This  famous  passage  becomes  of  especial 
interest  when  we  think  that  it  was  probably  written 
with  such  poets  as  Carew  and  Herrick  in  mind  ;  when 
we  recognize  in  it  the  high  seriousness  and  religious 
faith  of  Puritanism,  squarely  confronting  the  nation's 
lighter  mood. 

"Alas  !  what  boots  it  with  uncessant  care 
To  tend  the  homely,  slighted,  shepherd's  trade, 
And  strictly  meditate  the  thankless  Muse  T 
Were  it  not  better  done,  as  others  use, 
To  sport  with  Amaryllis  in  the  shade, 
Or  with  the  tangles  of  Xeaera's  hair  ? 
Fame  is  the  spur  that  the  clear  spirit  doth  raise 
(That  last  infirmity  of  noble  mind), 
To  scorn  delights  and  live  laborious  days  ; 
But  the  fair  guerdon  when  we  hope  to  find, 
And  think  to  burst  out  into  sudden  blaze, 
Comes  the  blind  Fury  with  the  abhorred  shears, 
And  slits  the  thin-spun  life.     '  But  not  the  praise," 
Phoebus  replied,  and  touched  my  trembling  ears  • 


If4       INTEODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATUBB 

'  Fame  is  no  plant  that  grows  on  mortal  soil, 

Nor  in  the  glistering  foil 

Set  off  to  the  world,  nor  in  broad  rumor  lies, 

But  lives  and  spreads  aloft  by  those  pure  eyes 

And  perfect  witness  of  all-judging  Jove  ; 

As  he  pronounces  lastly  on  each  deed  ; 

Of  so  much  fame  in  heaven  expect  thy  meed.'  "* 

JOHN   MILTON 

Shakespeare,  the  poet  of  man,  was  born  in  rural 
England  ;  John  Milton,  into  whose  remote  and  lofty 
verse  humanity  enters  so  little,  was  born  in  Bread 
Street  in  the  heart  of  London,  December  9,  1608. 

His  early  years  were  passed  in  a  sober  and  orderly 
Puritan  household  among   influences   of   refinement 
B    h  od    t      an^  cu^ture'     His  father,  John  Milton, 
London,  1608-  was  a  scrivener,  an  occupation  somewhat 
1624*  corresponding   to   the   modern    convey- 

ancer, but  he  was  also  well  known  as  a  musical  com- 
poser. The  younger  Milton's  faculty  for  music  had 
thus  an  opportunity  for  early  development ;  a  fact  of 
especial  interest  when  we  recall  the  distinctively 
musical  character  of  his  verse. 

Milton  was  early  destined  "for  the  study  of 
humane  letters,"  and  given  every  educational  advan- 
tage. He  had  private  instruction,  and  about  1620 
was  sent  to  the  famous  Grammar  School  of  St.  Paul.f 
Here,  to  use  his  own  expression,  he  worked  "  with 
eagerness,"  laying  the  foundation  of  his  future  blind- 
ness by  intense  application.  He  began  to  experiment 
in  poetry,  and  we  have  paraphrases  of  two  of  the 
Psalms  made  by  him  at  this  time. 

•Lyctdtu,  11.  W  to  86.  f  See  supra,  p.  10L 


JOHN      MILTON 


THE  PURITAN  IN  LITER  ATUBB  119 

In  1624  Milton  entered  Christ's  College,  Cam- 
bridge, where  he  continued  to  work  with  the  same 
steady  and  regulated  enthusiasm.  His 
youth  was  spotless  and  high-minded, 
with  perhaps  a  touch  of  that  austerity 
which  deepened  as  he  grew  older.  His  face  had  an 
exquisitely  refined  and  thoughtful  beauty  ;  his  soft 
light  brown  hair  fell  to  his  shoulders  after  the  cava- 
lier fashion  ;  his  figure  was  well-knit  but  slender ; 
his  complexion,  "  exceeding  fair."  From  his  some- 
what delicate  beauty,  and  from  his  blameless  life,  he 
gained  the  college  nickname  of  "the  Lady."  The 
year  after  he  entered  college  he  wrote  his  first 
original  poem,  On  the  Death  of  a  Fair  Infant 
Dying  of  a  Cough,  and  to  this  period  also  belong 
the  resonant  Hymn  to  the  Nativity  and  other  short 
pieces. 

After  leaving  Cambridge  Milton  spent  nearly  six 
years  at  his  father's  country  house  at  Horton,  a  vil- 
lage near  Windsor,  and  about  seventeen 
miles  from  London.  Here  he  lived  with 
books  and  nature,  studying  the  classics 
and  physical  science,  and  leaving  his  studious  quiet 
only  for  an  occasional  trip  to  town  to  learn  some- 
thing new  in  music  or  in  mathematics. 

Milton's  TJ  Allegro  and  77  JPenseroso,  composed  at 
this  time,  reflect  both  the  young  poet  and  his  sur- 
roundings.     Rustic   life    and     supersti-  « i/^lleero " 
tions   are    there    blended    with    idyllic  and  "H  Pen- 
pictures  of  the   Horton   landscape.     In  *    M0' 
Z' Allegro  we  hear  the  plowman  whistle  at  his  fur- 
row, the  milkmaid  sing  at  her  work  ;   we   see  the 


176        DTTBODUOTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEBATUBB 

"  Meadows  trim,  with  daisies  pied, 
Shallow  brooks,  and  rivers  wide," 

or  mark  the  neighboring  towers  of  Windsor 
"  Bosomed  high  in  tufted  trees." 

In  both  poems  we  detect  Milton  himself,  a  refined 
and  serious  nature,  exquisitely  responsive  to  what- 
ever is  best  in  life,  with  a  quick  and  by  no  means 
narrow  appreciation  of  things  beautiful.  The  poems 
suggest  to  us  a  youthful  Milton  dreaming  of  gor- 
geous and  visionary  splendors  in  the  long  summer 
twilights,  delighting  in  the  plays  of  Jonson  and 
Shakespeare,  and  spending  lonely  midnights  in  the 
loftiest  speculations  of  philosophy  ;  a  Milton  whose 
beauty -loving  and  religious  nature  was  moved  by  the 
solemn  ritual  of  the  Church  of  England  under  the 
"  high  embowed  roof "  of  a  cathedral.  In  these 
poems,  especially  IS  Allegro,  Milton  is  very  close  to 
the  Elizabethans.  In  their  tinge  of  romance  they 
remind  us  of  Spenser,  who,  according  to  Masson,  was 
Milton's  poetical  master,  while  in  their  lyrical  move- 
ment they  strikingly  resemble  certain  songs  of 
Fletcher  in  his  pastoral  drama,  The  Faithful  Shep- 
M  herdess*  But  Comus  (1634),  Milton's 

next  work,  shows  the  decided  growth  of 
a  new  and  distinctly  Puritan  spirit.  In  its  form 
indeed,  Comus  belongs  to  the  earlier  age.  It  is  a 
mask — one  of  those  gorgeous  dramatic  spectacles 
which  Renaissance  England  had  learned  from  Italy, 

*  See  the  beautiful  lyric,  "  Shepherds  All  and  Maidens 
Fair,"  in  act  ii.  scene  1,  and  "  Song  of  the  River  God,"  in  act 
iv.  scene  1,  of  this  play. 


THE  PURITAN  IN  LITERATURE  177 

the  favorite  entertainment  at  the  festivals  of  the 
rich,  with  which  Ben  Jonson  so  often  delighted  the 
court  of  James.  Comus  has  music  and  dancing,  and 
it  affords  the  requisite  opportunity  for  scenic  effects, 
yet  there  breathes  through  it  the  growing  strain  of 
moral  earnestness.  It  shows  us  how  purity  and  inno- 
cence can  thread  the  darkest  and  most  tangled  ways 
of  earth,  unharmed  and  invincible,  through  the 
inherent  might  of  goodness.  In  noble  and  memora- 
ble words  Milton  declares  that  if  we  once  lose  faith 
in  this  essential  power  of  righteousness,  and  in  the 
ultimate  triumph  of  good  over  evil  which  that  power 
is  destined  to  secure,  the  very  foundations  of  the 
universe  give  way. 

"...  Against  the  threats 
Of  malice  or  of  sorcery,  or  that  power 
Which  erring  men  call  chance,  this  I  hold  firm : 
Virtue  may  be  assailed,  but  never  hurt, 
Surprised  by  unjust  force,  but  not  enthralled : 
Yea,  even  that  which  Mischief  meant  most  harm 
Shall  in  the  happy  trial  prove  most  glory. 
But  evil  on  itself  shall  back  recoil, 
And  mix  no  more  with  goodness,  when  at  last, 
Gathered  like  scum,  and  settled  to  itself, 
It  shall  be  in  eternal  restless  change 
Self-fed  and  self-consumed.     If  this  fail, 
The  pillared  firmament  is  rottenness, 
And  earth's  base  built  on  stubble."  * 

We  see  the  powers  of  Heaven  descend  to  protect 
beleaguered  innocence,  and  in  the  parting  words  of 
the  attendant  spirit,  we  find  both  the  practical  lesson 
of  the  mask  and  the  guiding  principl"  of  Milton  : 

*  Comu*. 


178        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITER  ATURB 

"  Mortals,  that  would  follow  me. 
Love  Virtue  ;  she  alone  is  free. 
She  can  teach  ye  how  to  climb 
Higher  than  the  sphery  chime  ; 
Or,  if  Virtue  feeble  were, 
Heaven  itself  would  stoop  to  her."  * 

In  his  next  poem,  the  pastoral  elegy  of  Lycidas 
(1637),  the  space    between   Milton  and    the    Eliza- 
bethans continues  to  widen.     From  the 
"Lycidas."  ,       .  .. 

enthusiasm  for  virtue,  he  passes    to  an 

outburst  of  wrath  and  denunciation  against  those  in 
the  Church  whom  he  considered  the  faithless  shep- 
herds of  the  flock. 

"  The  hungry  sheep  look  up,  and  are  not  fed," 
but  the  hour  of  retribution  is  at  hand  ;  already  the 

"  two-handed  engine  at  the  door, 
Stands  ready  to  smite  once,  and  smite  no  more."f 

The  first  thirty  years  of  Milton's  life  had  thus  been 

lived  almost  wholly  "in  the  still  air  of  delightful 

studies."J     Industrious  and  select  read- 

ifiSfrLfisa  ln&  was  Part  °^  kis  systematic  prepara- 
tion for  the  life  work  he  set  himself.  Up 
to  this  time  he  wrote  little,  although  that  little  was 
enough  to  give  him  an  honorable  place  among  the 
poets  of  England  ;  but  already  he  was  full  of  great 
designs,  writing  in  1637,  "I  am  pluming  my  wings 

*  Comut. 

\  Lycidas.    For  full  analysis  of  this  passage  see  liuskin'$ 
Betame  and  Liliet. 
t  Milton,  Tht  Reason  of  Church  Qovtrnmeni,  Int.,  book  ii. 


THE  PURITAN  IN  LITERATURE  179 

for  a  flight."     To  all  he  had  learned  from  books  he 
now  added  the  widening  influences  of  travel. 

Leaving  England  in  April,  1638,  he  passed  through 
Paris  to  Italy,  meeting  many  learned  and  famous 
men,  among  the  rest  the  old  astronomer  Galileo,  to 
whom  he  refers  in  the  early  part  of  Paradise  Lost. 

Meanwhile  the  civil  troubles  in  England  seemed 
gathering  to  a  crisis,  and  Milton  resolved  to  shorten 
his  trip,  because,  as  he  wrote,  "  I  considered  it  base 
that  while  my  fellow-countrymen  were  fighting  at 
home  for  liberty,  I  should  be  traveling  abroad  for 
intellectual  culture." 

We  learn  from  the  Epitaphiwn  Damonis,  a  beauti- 
ful Latin  elegy  written  at  this  time  (1639),  that  Milton 
was  already  planning  a  great  epic  poem,  _ 
but  this  project  was  to  be  rudely  inter-  England,  and 

rupted.     England  was  on  the  brink  of  prose  works, 

,  1639-1660. 

civil  war,  and  after  long  years  of  prepa- 
ration Milton  put  aside  his  cherished  ambitions  and 
pursuits,  and  freely  gave  up  his  life  and  genius  to  the 
service  of  his  country.  Except  for  occasional  sonnets, 
the  greatest  poet  in  England  forced  himself  to  write 
prose  for  more  than  twenty  years.  Most  of  this 
prose  was  written  in  the  heat  of  "  hoarse  disputes," 
and  is  often  marred  by  the  bitterness  and  personal 
abuse  which  marked  the  controversies  of  that  troubled 
time  ;  but  this  is  redeemed  in  many  places  by  earnest- 
ness and  a  noble  eloquence. 

Prominent  among  the  works  of  this  prose  period 
are  the  Tractate  on  Education  (1644),  and  the  splen- 
did Areopagitica,  a  burning  plea  for  the  liberty  of 
the  press,  of  which  it  has  been  said  :  "Its  defense  of 


180        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

books,  and  the  freedom  of  books,  will  last  as  long  as 
there  are  writers  and  readers  of  books."  * 

Meanwhile  (1643),  Milton  had  taken  a  hasty  and 
unfortunate  step  in  marrying  Mary  Powell,  a  young 
girl  of  less  than  half  his  age,  of  Royalist  family, 
who  proved  unsuited  to  him  in  disposition  and  edu- 
cation. After  the  execution  of  Charles  I.  (1649) 
Milton  ranged  himself  on  the  side  of  those  who  had 
taken  this  tremendous  step,  in  a  pamphlet  on  The 
Tenure  of  Kings  and  Magistrates,  and  a  month  after 
its  publication  was  made  the  Latin,  or  foreign,  Secre- 
tary to  the  newly  established  Commonwealth.  His 
pen  continued  to  be  busy  for  the  state,  until  in  1652 
his  eyes  failed  him  through  over-use,  and  he  was 
stricken  with  total  blindness.  In  this  year  his  wife 
died,  leaving  him  with  three  little  girls.  In  1656  he 
married  Katherine  Woodcock,  who  lived  but  little 
more  than  a  year,  and  to  whom  he  paid  a  touching 
tribute  in  one  of  his  sonnets,  f 

In  these  later  years  of  Milton's  life,  during  which 

he  suffered  blindness,  sorrow,  and  broken  health,  the 

The  later       cause  for  which  he  had  sacrificed  so  much 

poetic  period,  was  lost,  and   England   brought    again 

1660-1674.     under  the  niie  Of  a  Stuart  king.     Milton 

had  been  so  vehement  an  advocate  of  the  Parliament 
that  we  wonder  at  his  escape  ;  but,  from  whatever 
reason,  he  was  not  excepted  from  the  general  pardon 
put  forth  by  Charles  II.  after  his  return  (August  29, 

*  Milton,  Rev.  Stopford  Brooke,  p.  45,  Classical  Writers 
Series. 

f  "  Methought  I  saw  my  late  espoused  Saint 

Brought  to  me  like  Alcestis  from  the  grave,"  etc. 


THE  PURITAN  IN  LITERATURE  181 

1660).  In  the  riotous  years  that  followed,  when 
England,  casting  off  decency  and  restraint,  plunged 
into  "the  mad  orgy  of  the  Restoration,"  Milton 
entered  in  earnest  upon  the  composition  of  Paradise 
Lost,  singing  with  voice 

"  unchanged 

To  hoarse  or  mute,  though  fallen  on  evil  days ; 
On  evil  days  though  fallen,  and  evil  tongues, 
In  darkness,  and  with  dangers  compassed  round, 
And  solitude."  * 

In  his  little  house  in  BunhillFields,  near  the  Lon- 
don in  which  the  pleasure-loving  king  jested  at  faith 
and  honor,  and  held  his  shameless  court  amid 

".  .  .  The  barbarous  dissonance 
Of  Bacchus  and  his  revelers,"  .  .  .  f 

the  old  poet  lived  his  life  of  high  contemplation  and 
undaunted  labor.  At  no  time  does  Milton  seem  to 
us  more  worthy  of  himself  ;  he  is  so  heroic  that  we 
hardly  dare  to  pity  him.  But  wherever  the  fault  lay, 
his  daughters,  whose  privilege  it  should  have  been  to 
minister  to  him,  greatly  increased  his  burdens.  They 
are  said  to  have  sold  his  books  without  his  knowl- 
edge, and  two  of  them  counseled  his  maidservant  to 
"  cheat  him  in  his  marketings." 

When  we  reflect  that  the  oldest  daughter  was  but 
fourteen  at  the  Restoration,  and  that  the  education 
of  all  had  been  neglected,  we  are  inclined  to  judge 
less  hardly,  but  we  can  scarcely  wonder  that  Milton 
should  have  sought  some  means  of  relief  from  these 

*  Paradise  Lott,  bk.  vii 
f/Wd. 


182        INTBODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

intolerable  discomforts.  This  he  happily  found 
through  his  marriage  with  Elizabeth  Minshull  in 
1663.  Yet  even  when  matters  were  at  the  worst, 
Milton  seems  to  have  borne  them  with  a  beautiful 
fortitude,  "  having  a  certain  serenity  of  mind  not 
condescending  to  little  things."  His  one  faithful 
.  daughter,  Deborah,  speaks  of  his  cheerfulness  under 
his  sufferings  from  the  gout,  and  describes  him  as 
"the  soul  of  conversation."  In  the  spirit  of  his 
sonnet  "  On  His  Blindness,"  he  was  content  to  "only 
stand  and  wait,"  sending  up  the  prayer  out  of  his 
darkness, 

"  So  much  the  rather  thou,  Celestial  Light, 
Shine  inward."  * 

The  words  of  one  who  visited  him  at  this  time 
help  to  bring  Milton  before  us,  dressed  neatly  in 
black,  and  seated  in  a  large  armchair  in  a  room  with 
dark  green  hangings,  his  soft  hair  still  falling  over 
his  shoulders,  his  sightless  eyes  still  beautiful  and 
clear. 

Paradise  Lost  was  published  in  1667,  to  be  fol- 
lowed in  1671  by  Paradise  Regained.  With  the 
latter  poem  appeared  the  noble  drama  of  Samson 
Agonistes  (or  the  Wrestler),  and  with  it  Milton's 
work  was  ended.  He  died  on  November  8,  1674f 
so  quietly  that  those  with  him  knew  not  when  he 
passed  away. 

"  Nothing  is  here  for  tears,  nothing  to  wail 
Or  knock  the  breast ;  no  weakness,  no  contempt, 
Dispraise,  or  blame  ;  nothing  but  well  and  fair, 
And  what  may  quiet  us  in  a  death  so  noble."  f 

*  Purvdise  Lost,  bk.  iii.  \  Samson  Agoniates,  1.  1721. 


THE  PURITAN  IN  LITERATURE  183 

We  are  stimulated  and  thrilled  by  the  thought  of 
Milton's  life,  as  at  the  sight  of  some  noble  and  heroic 
action.     Obviously  it  is   not  free   from 
our  common   human    shortcomings,  but  Milton's  ideal 
in  its  whole  ideal  and  in  its  large  results, 
we  feel  that  it  moves  habitually  on  the  higher  levels, 
and  is  animated  by  no  vulgar  or  ordinary  aims.     It 
is  much  that  as  a  great  poet  Milton  loved  beauty, 
that  as  a  great  scholar  he  sought  after  truth.     It  is 
more  that,  above  the  scholar's  devotion  to  knowledge, 
Milton    set  the   citizen's   devotion    to   country,   the 
patriot's  passionate  love  of  liberty  ;  that  above  even 
the  employment  of  his  great  poetic  gift,  he  set  the 
high  resolve  to  make  his  life  "  a  true  poem,"  and  to 
live 

"  As  ever  in  my  great  Taskmaster's  eye."* 

He  has  accordingly  left  us  an  example  of  solemn 
self-consecration  to  a  lofty  purpose,  early  undertaken, 
and  steadfastly  and  consistently  pursued.  Milton's 
life  was  lived  at  high  tension  ;  he  not  only  set  an 
exacting  standard  for  himself,  he  was  also  inclined 
to  impose  it  upon  others.  He  is  so  sublime  that  some 
of  us  are  inclined  to  be  a  trifle  ill  at  ease  in  his  pres- 
ence, or  are  apt  to  be  repelled  by  a  strain  of  severity 
far  different  from  the  sweet  companionableness  of 
Shakespeare.  In  Milton's  stringent  and  austere  ideal 
we  miss  at  times  the  saving  grace  of  Shakespeare's 
charity,  or  we  are  almost  moved  to  exclaim  with  Sir 
Toby: 

*  Sonnet  "  On  his  Arriving  at  the  Age  of  Twenty-three." 


184       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

"  Dost  thou  think,  because  (hou  art  virtuous,  there  shall  b* 
no  more  cakes  and  ale  ?  "  * 

In  Samson  Agonistes,  when  Delilah  pleads  before 
her  husband  that  she  has  sinned  through  weakness, 
she  is  met  by  an  uncompromising  reply: 

".  .  .  If  weakness  may  excuse, 
What  murderer,  what  traitor,  parricide, 
Incestuous,  sacrilegious,  but  may  plead  it  ? 
All  wickedness  is  weakness,  that  plea,  therefore, 
With  God  or  man  will  gain  thee  no  remission."  f 

From  such  a  rigorous  insistence  on  condemnation 
in  strict  accord  with  the  offense,  our  minds  revert 
to  Portia's  inspired  plea  for  mercy,  J  or  to  Isabella's 
searching  question  : 

"  How  would  you  be 

If  He  which  is  the  top  of  judgment  should 
But  judge  you  as  you  are  ?  "  § 

However  we  may  appreciate  these  differences  in 
the  spirit  of  two  great  poets,  we  do  Milton  wrong  if 

we  fail  to  honor  and  reverence  him  for 
Paradise  ,         .         1*11 

that  in  which  he  was  supremely  great. 


We  must  remember  that  this  intense 
zeal  for  righteousness  was  a  master  passion  in  the 
highest  spirits  of  Milton's  time,  and  that  it  is  hard  to 
combine  zeal  with  tolerance.  It  is  but  natural  that 
in  the  midst  of  the  corrupt  England  of  the  Restora- 
tion, the  almost  solitary  voice  of  the  nation's  better 

*  Twelfth  Night,  act  ii.  scene  3. 

f  Samson  Agonistes,  1.  831. 

t  7.  supra,  p.  145. 

$  Measure  for  Measure,  actii.  scene  8. 


THE  PURITAN  IN  LITERATURE  185 

self  could  not  prophesy  smooth  things.  This  Puritan 
severity  is  especially  marked  in  the  three  great  poems 
of  Milton's  later  life.  As  a  young  man  he  had  chosen 
a  purely  romantic  subject  for  his  projected  epic — the 
story  of  Arthur  ;  his  maturer  interests  led  him  to 
abandon  this  fora  purely  religious  and  doctrinal  one  ; 
he  treated  of  the  fall  of  man  and  the  origin  of  evil, 
that  he  might  "justify  the  ways  of  God  to  men.'* 
Paradise  Lost,  with  its  sequel,  Paradise  Regained, 
constitutes  the  one  great  contribution  of  the  English 
genius  to  the  epic  poetry  of  the  world.  The  style  of 
these  great  works  alone  shows  genius  of  the  highest 
and  rarest  kind.  By  the  incomparable  dignity  and 
majesty  of  the  verse,  with  its  prolonged  and  solemn 
music,  and  the  curious  involution  of  its  slowly  un- 
folding sentences,  we  are  lifted  out  of  the  ordinary 
or  the  trivial,  into  the  incalculable  spaces  of  that 
region  into  which  it  is  the  poet's  object  to  transport 
us.  In  Paradise  Lost,  caught  in  the  tremendous 
sweep  of  Milton's  imagination,  we  see  our  whole 
universe,  with  its  circling  sun  and  planets  hanging 
suspended  in  the  black  abyss  of  chaos, 

"  In  bigness  like  a  star." 

Heaven,  "the  deep  tract  of  Hell,"  and  that  illimit- 
able and  chaotic  region  which  lies  between,  make  up 
the  vast  Miltonic  background,  where  legions  of 
rebellious  angels  strive  with  God,  and  wherein  is 
enacted  the  mysterious  drama,  not  of  men,  but  of  the 
race  of  Man. 

The   attitude  of  Shakespeare  toward  that  unseeu 


186       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

and  mysterious  region  which  lies  beyond  the  limits 

of  our  human  experience,  was  that  of  the 
Milton  and  ,          .  u         i  •"-'*!. 

Shakespeare.  new    learning.      He    places     us   in    the 

midst  of  our  familiar  world,  and  there 
we  only  catch  at  times  the  half -intelligible  whisper 
of  voices  coming  out  of  those  blank  surrounding 
spaces  which  no  man  can  enter.  Hamlet,  slipping  out 
of  this  little  earthly  circle  of  noise  and  light,  can  but 
whisper  on  the  brink  of  the  great  blackness  of  dark- 
ness, that 

"  The  rest  is  silence." 

/* 

But  Milton,  with  the  new  daring  of  Puritanism, 
took  for  his  province  that  "  undiscovered  country" 
beyond  the  walls  of  this  goodly  prison,  as  Shakes- 
peare, through  Hamlet,  called  the  world.  At  the  be-  ,  , 
ginning  of  his  great  epic  he  invokes  "  The  Heavenly 
Muse," 

"  That  on  the  secret  top 

Of  Oreb  or  of  Sinai,  didst  inspire, 

That  Shepherd  who  first  taught  the  chosen  seed, 

In  the  beginning  how  the  heavens  and  earth 

Rose  out  of  chaos."  * 

He  looks  to  the  Hill  of  Sion, 

"  And  Siloa's  brook  that  flowed 
Fast  by  the  oracle  of  God."* 

rather  than  to  Parnassus,  and  by  Celestial  guidance 
intends  to  soar  "above  the  Aonian  mount,"  and  to 
pursue 

"  Things  unattempted  yet  in  prose  or  rhyme."* 
*  Paradise  Lost,  bk.  i. 


THE  PURITAN  IN  LITERATURE  187 

STUDY  LIST 
JOHN  MILTON 

1 .  L' ALLEGRO  AJTO  IL  PENSEROSO.     Palgrave  points  out  in 
his  preface  to  the  Golden  Treasury  that  these  are  the  earliest 
purely  descriptive  lyrics    in  the  language.    Rev.   Stopford 
Brooke  speaks  of  them  as  describing  "  the  bright  and  the 
thoughtful  aspects  of  Nature."    This  is  true,  but  we  should 
rather  regard  them  as  showing  us  Nature  as  she  appears  to  the 
cheerful  and  to  the  pensive  or  meditative  man.     The  poems 
are  not  objective  or  impersonal  descriptions  of  scenery.     In 
each  we  have  not  merely  an  aspect  of  Nature,  but  the  mood  of 
an  observer.     Nature  is  seen  through  the  medium  of  this  mood. 
( V.  Coleridge's  Dejection,  An  Ode,  and  also  note  on  the  same, 
p.  281.     Of.  Ruskin  on  "  The  Pathetic  Fallacy,"  in  Modern 
Painters.}    Contrast  these  companion  poems,  and  notice  close 
parallelism.     The  Allegro,  which  begins  with  the  early  morn- 
ing and  ends  at  night,  is  paralleled  thought  by  thought,  scene 
by  scene,  with  the  Penseroso,  which  begins  with  the  late  even- 
ing and  ends  toward  the  noon  of  the  next  aay.     But  the  Pen- 
seroso closes  with  the  wish — which,  not  paralleled  in  the  Alle- 
gro, makes  us  know  that  Milton  preferred  the  pensive  to  the 
mirthful  temper — that  he  may  live  on  into  old  age  and  con 
templative  life, 

"  Till  old  experience  do  attain, 
To  something  like  prophetic  strain." 

Cf.  Spenser  for  general  poetic  tone  ;  also,  especially  for  metri- 
cal effect,  songs  in  Fletcher's  Faithful  Shepherdess.  Note 
description  of  rustic  life,  superstitions,  etc.,  and  explain  clas- 
sical allusions.  Consult  Stopford  A.  Brooke's  Milton,  Classi- 
cal Writers  Series,  pp.  18-19 ;  Shairp's  Poetic  Interpretation 
of  Nature,  pp.  186-190;  Notes  in  Masson's  edition  of  Milton 
and  in  Hales's  Longer  English  Poems. 

2.  LYCIDAS.    This  poem  is  pastoral  in  form,  ' '  with  its  in- 
troduction and  its  epilogue,  and  between  them  the  monody 
of  the  Shepherd  who  has  lost  his  friend  (S.    A.   Brooke's 
Milton,  p.  26).     It  is  also  an  elegy  or  poem  of  mourning  for 


188        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  dead.  Look  up  the  nature  of  the  pastoral  and  the  elegy, 
and  their  history  in  English  and  in  classical  literature.  Find 
derivation  and  exact  meaning  of  elegy .  "  Elegiac  poems  may 
be  distinguished  as  objective  or  subjective,  according  as  their 
tenor  and  general  aim  may  be  either  simply  to  occupy  them- 
selves with  the  fortunes,  character,  and  acts  of  the  departed, 
or  to  found  a  train  of  musings  having  reference  to  self,  or  at 
least  strongly  colored  by  the  writer's  personality,  upon  the  fact 
of  bereavement"  (Arnold's  English  Literature,  pp.  445-446). 
•Give  examples  of  elegies  in  each  of  these  classes.  To  which 
group  does  Lycidas  belong  ?  Who  was  the  subject  of  Lycidasf 
When  and  under  what  circumstances  was  it  written  ?  Does 
the  poem  seem  to  you  to  express  a  deep  and  genuine  grief,  or 
to  be  merely  formal  and  conventional  in  tone  ?  If  the  latter, 
do  you  consider  this  a  fault  ?  Can  you  name  any  elegy  which 
seems  to  you  to  express  a  more  genuine  personal  grief  ?  Cf. 
Shelley's  Adonais,  and  latter  part  of  Theocritus'  first  ode, 
Thyrsit.  Note  description  of  Welsh  coast  under  classic 
names.  See  notes  in  Masson's  edition  of  Milton,  and  Kale's 
Longer  English  Poems  ;  Brooke's  Milton,  pp.  25-27  ;  Garnett's 
Milton,  p.  48  et  seq.:  Ruskin's  Sesame  and  Lilies  ;  and  for  the 
elegy,  Arnold's  History  of  English  Literature,  p.  445  et  seq. 

3.  PARADISE  LOST,  bks.    i.-iii.     Look  up,  as  preliminary 
study,  history  and  nature  of  the  epic  ;  its  place  in  the  develop- 
ment of  poetry  as  an  art,  etc.,  etc.     Note  Theodore  Watts' 
division  of  this  form  of  poetry  into  epics  of  growth  and  epics 
of  art ;  see  article  on  "  Poetry"  in  Encyclopaedia  Britannica. 
TV"-  the  epic  in  general,  v.  Gummere's  Handbook  of  Poetry  for 
Students  of  English  Verse,  a  most  convenient  book  for  general 
use.    For  interesting  instance  of  a  survival  of  the  "epic  of 
growth  "  in  modern  times,  v.  Introduction  to  Hapgood's  Epic 
Songs  of  Russia.     For  Paradise  Lost,  see  general  reference 
given  in  Section  5. 

4.  SAMSON  AGONISTES  has  been  well  edited  by  J.  Churton 
•Collins,  Oxford  :  Clarendon  Press. 

5.  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.     Lives :  Garnett's,  In  Great 
Writers  Series  ;  Pattison's,  in  English  Men  of  Letters  Series  ; 
"Milton,  in  Johnson's  Live*  of  the  Poets  ;  Masson's  Three  Devils, 


THE  PURITAN  IN  LITERATURE  189 

LutTirr'x,  Milton's,  Goethe's,  and  other  Essays.  The  essay  in 
same  volume  on  the  "Youth  of  Milton"  contains  interesting 
comparison  between  Milton  and  Shakespeare.  Essay  oa 
"Milton"  in  Seeley's  Lectures  and  Essays ;  Stopford  Brooke's 
Milton,  in  Student's  Literary  Series.  Macaulay's  Essay  on 
Milton  ;  M.  Arnold's  Essay  on  Milton. 

Among  the  recent  studies  of  Milton  are:  Milton,  by  Walter 
Raleigh;  John  Milton,  A  Short  Study  of  his  Life  and  Works,  by 
W.  P.  Trent;  An  Introduction  to  the  Prose  and  Poetical  Works 
of  John  Milton,  comprising  all  the  autobiographic  passages  in 
his  works,  etc.,  by  Hiram  Corson. 

History:  S.  R.  Gardiner's  series  of  histories  cover  this 
period.  Masson's  Life  and  Times  of  Milton,  Macaulay's 
Hi«tory  of  England,  from  accession  of  James  II. 


PART  III 

THE  FRENCH  INFLUENCE.     i66o-cir.  1750 

THE    ENGLAND    OP    THE    BESTOEATION 

THE  Restoration  is  one  of  the  great  landmarks  in 
the  history  of  England.  It  means  more  than  a 
change  in  government  ;  it  means  the  „. 
beginning  of  a  new  England,  in  life,  in  the  Eestora- 
thought,  and  in  literature.  On  every  tlon§ 
side  we  find  outward  signs  of  the  nation's  different 
mood.  The  theaters  were  reopened,  ana  frivolous 
crowds  applauded  a  new  kind  of  drama,  light,  witty, 
and  immoral.  The  Maypoles  were  set  up  again,  bear- 
baiting  revived,  the  Puritan  Sabbath  disregarded. 
The  king  had  come  to  enjoy  his  own  again,  and 
thousands  who  had  grown  restive  under  Puritanic 
restraints  flung  aside  all  decency  to  recklessly  enjoy  it 
with  him.  Those  whom  the  Puritan  had  overthrown 
were  again  uppermost,  and  they  knew  no  moderation 
in  the  hour  of  their  triumph.  The  cause  and  faith  of 
Cromwell  and  of  Milton  were  loaded  with  insult  and 
contempt,  and  the  snuffling  Puritan  was  baited  and 
ridiculed,  as  in  the  clever  but  vulgar  doggerel  of 
Butler's  Hudibras.  Had  Cromwell  lived,  or  had  Eng- 
land remained  a  Puritan  Commonwealth,  the  spirit 
which  produced  Wither,  Milton,  and  Bunyan,  might 


192        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

have  continued  to  enrich  the  literature  ;  but  with  the 
return  of  Charles  II.  we  pass  abruptly  into  a  new 
literary  period  expressive  of  the  nation's  altered 
mood. 

During  the  two  centuries  preceding  the  Restora- 
tion, the  genius  of  England  had  been  inspired  and 
directed  by  Italy,  but  about  the  time  of 
tliat  event  English  writers  began  to  turn 
for  guidance  to  the  brilliant  and  polished 
literature  of  France.  This  seems  to  have  been  due 
to  a  combination  of  causes.  Throughout  the  whole 
of  Europe  the  literary  influence  of  Italy  had  sensibly 
declined,  and  at  this  time  was  being  partially  replaced 
by  that  of  France.  Politically,  France  had  gained 
great  ascendency  through  the  ability  of  her  famous 
statesmen,  Richelieu  and  Mazarin,  and  Louis  XIV. 
(1643-1715),  the  most  splendid  living  embodiment 
of  despotic  kingship,  had  gathered  about  his  court  a 
brilliant  group  of  writers.  Theological  eloquence 
was  represented  by  Bossuet  and  Fenelon,  meditative 
prose  by  Pascal,  tragedy  by  Corneille  and  Racine, 
and  comedy  by  Moliere,  with  the  single  exception  of 
Shakespeare  the  greatest  dramatist  of  the  modern 
world.  It  was  but  natural  that  England,  in  common 
with  other  nations,  should  respond  to  the  example  of 
this  rising  literature  ;  but  her  readiness  to  learn  from 
France  seems  to  have  been  heightened  by  other 
causes.  Charles  II.  had  brought  with  him  from  his 
exile  on  the  Continent  a  fondness  for  things  French, 
and,  in  particular,  a  liking  for  the  French  style  of 
tragedy.  France  was  powerful  in  the  very  heart  of 
Charles'  court,  and  his  reign  shows  us  the  shameful 


THE   ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  193 

spectacle  of  an  English  king  seeking  to  undermine 
English  liberty  by  the  aid  of  a  French  king's  gold. 

Doubtless  the  French  tastes  of  the  king  were  not 
without  their  effect  on  literature  ;  but  a  still  more 
important  reason  for  the  English  follow-  i^e  French 
ing  of  French  models  remains  to  be  attention  to 
noticed.  One  great  characteristic  of  "teraij  form' 
the  French  literature  of  this  period  was  the  impor- 
tance it  attached  to  literary  form,  that  is,  to  the  finish, 
elegance,  and  correctness  with  which  the  thought 
was  expressed.  Recent  efforts  had  been  made  to 
improve  and  purify  the  language,  and  from  this  task 
th«  French  scholars  turned  their  attention  to  the 
rules  of  literary  composition.  Boileau  became  the 
literary  lawgiver  of  the  day  by  his  Art  of  Poetry 
(1673),  in  which  he  urged  writers  to  avoid  the  bril- 
liant extravagances  of  the  Italians,  and  strive  to 
write  with  exactness  and  "  good  sense."  Now  this 
doctrine  met  with  especial  favor,  because  it  exactly 
suited  the  general  trend  and  tendency  of  the  times. 
Throughout  Europe  the  creative  impulse  of  the 
Renaissance  was  dying.  No  longer  sustained  by  that 
overmastering  desire  to  create,  which,  by  its  very 
truth  and  intensity,  leads  genius  to  an  artistic  expres- 
sion, men  came  to  rely  more  on  such  external  guid- 
ance as  could  be  had  from  the  maxims  of  composition. 
England  shared  in  this  prevailing  tendency,  and 
naturally  took  for  her  pattern  the  great  FrencK 
exponents  of  the  congenial  doctrine. 

Edmund  Waller  (1605-1687)  was  one  of  the  earliest 
of  these  followers  of  the  French,  and  was  for  some 
time  looked  up  to  as  the  great  refiner  of  language 


194        INTBODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

and  versification  ;  but  the  real  head  of  the  Critical 
School,  as  this  group  of  writers  is  called,  was  John 
Dryden  (1631-1700),  a  man  of  logical  and  masculine 

intellect,  and  of  finished   literary  skill. 

John  Dryden.  _.       ,          .  ,  ,.  , 

Dryden  rises  above  the  smaller  men  of 

his  day  by  the  weight  of  sheer  intellectual  force. 
From  the  Restoration  to  the  close  of  the  century  he 
dominated  English  letters,  "  the  greatest  man  of  a 
little  age."  He  represents  the  new  critical  spirit  and 
the  desire  for  moderation  and  correctness  of  literary 
form.  "  Nothing,"  he  declared,  "  is  truly  sublime 
that  is  not  just  and  proper  ;  "  and  he  brought  to  his 
work  a  cold  and  critical  intellect,  and  the  most  exact- 
ing and  conscientious  care.  In  his  adaptation  of  an 
English  translation  of  Boileau's  Art  of  Poetry,  he 
announces  his  own  principles  of  composition — princi- 
ples which  distinguish  the  writers  of  his  school : 

"  Gently  make  haste,  of  labor  not  afraid ; 
A  hundred  times  consider  what  you've  said  ; 
Polish,  repolish,  every  color  lay, 
And  sometimes  add,  but  oftener  take  away."* 

Diyden's  careful  study  of  literature  as  an  art  is 
further  shown  by  his  prose  criticisms.     It  was  his 
custom  to  preface  his  plays  and  poems 
Dryden  as      wjth  a  discussion,  explaining  or  defend- 
ing the  methods  upon  which  the  work 
had  been  composed  ;   and   his  Essay  on  Dramatic 
Poetry  (1667),   in    which  he  advocates  the   use   of 
rhyme  in  serious  plays,  holds  an  assured  place  in  the 
history  of  English  criticism. 

*  The  Art  of  Poetry,  canto  i.  1. 171. 


JOHN     DRYDEN 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  195 

Immense  intellectual  force,  and  an  ability  to  argue 
in  verse,  two  of  the  most  obvious  elements  of  Dry- 
den's  genius,  lift  his  satires  and  didactic 
poems  into  a  foremost  place  in  the  liter- 
ature.  His  Absalom  and  Achitophel 
(1681),  the  greatest  political  satire  of  the  language, 
was  written  in  the  interests  of  the  court  party, 
and  contains  a  masterly  attack  upon  the  Earl  of 
Shaftesbury,  who  was  then  on  trial  for  high  treason. 
The  portrayal  of  Shaftesbury,  under  the  name  of 
Achitophel,  is  justly  famous,  and  is  a  good  illustra- 
tion of  Dryden's  peculiar  power. 

"  Of  these  the  false  Achitophel  was  first ; 
A  name  to  all  succeeding  ages  curst : 
For  close  designs  and  crooked  counsels  fit ; 
Sagacious,  bold,  and  turbulent  of  wit ; 
Restless,  unfixed  in  principles  and  place  ; 
In  power  unpleased,  impatient  of  disgrace  ; 
A  fiery  soul,  which,  working  out  its  way, 
Fretted  the  pygmy  body  to  decay, 
And  o'er-informed  the  tenement  of  clay. 

A  daring  pilot  in  extremity  ; 

Pleased  with  the  danger,  when  the  waves  went  high 
He  sought  the  storms  ;  but  for  a  calm  unfit, 
Would  steer  too  nigh  the  sands  to  boast  his  wit. 
Great  wits  are  sure  to  madness  near  allied, 
And  thin  partitions  do  their  bounds  divide  ; 
Else  why  should  he,  with  wealth  and  honor  blest. 
Refuse  his  age  the  needful  hours  of  rest  ? 
Punish  a  body  which  he  could  not  please ; 
Bankrupt  of  life,  yet  prodigal  of  ease  ? 
And  all  to  leave  what  with  his  toil  he  won. 
To  that  unfeather'd  two-legged  thing,  a  son."  * 

*  Absalom  and  Achitophel,  pt.  i.  1.  150. 


196         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

This  masterpiece,  which  established  its  author's 
fame  as  a  satirist,  was  followed  by  The  Medal  (1682), 
a  second  attack  on  Shaftesbury,  and  by  MacFleck- 
noe  (1682).  In  the  latter,  Shadwell,  an  otherwise 
obscure  writer  of  the  political  faction  opposite  to  that 
of  Dryden,  is  immortalized  by  the  stinging  lash  of 
the  poet's  ridicule.  Flecknoe,  who  is  about  to  abdi- 
cate from  the  throne  of  Dullness  in  favor  of  Shadwell, 
is  made  to  declare  : 

"  Shadwell  alone,  of  all  my  sons,  is  he, 
Who  stands  confirmed  in  full  stupidity. 
The  rest  to  some  faint  meaning  make  pretense, 
But  Shadwell  never  deviates  into  sense. 
Some  beams  of  wit  on  other  souls  may  fall, 
Strike  through,  and  make  a  lucid  interval ; 
But  Shadwell's  genuine  night  admits  no  ray, 
His  rising  fogs  prevail  upon  the  day. "  * 

The  Edigio  Laid  (1682),  and   T/ie  Hind  and  the 

Panther  (1687),  are  the  great  examples  of  Dryden's 

,    ,         power  of  reasoning  in  verse.     The  first 

power  of        is  a  defense  of  the  Church  of  England  ; 

reasoning"1   the  second,  written  after  the   accession 
verse. 

of  the  Roman  Catholic  James,  and  after 

Dryden's  change  of  faith,  is  an  elaborate  argument 
in  behalf  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 

In  lyric  poetry  Dryden  is  known  by  his  majestic 

odes   on    St.  Cecilia's  Day  and  Alexander's    Feast, 

.         and  by  the  beautiful  Memorial  Ode  on 

Mistress  Anne  Killegriw,\  in  which  he 

*  MacFlecknoe,  1.  17. 

f  This  beautiful  Ode  is  given  in  Ward's  English  Poets. 


THE  ENGLAND   OF  THE  RESTORATION  197 

speaks  with   touching    humility  of  his    own  short- 
comings. 

Dryden  is  emphatically  a  representative  English 
poet.  By  his  life,  character,  and  the  spirit  of  his 
work,  he  belongs  to  the  changed  Eng- 


land which  had  risen   out  of  the  over-  n 


throw  of  Puritanism,  and  he  embodies 
with  unmistakable  vigor  and  distinctness  many  of 
those  marked  features  which  were  to  characterize 
the  nation  and  its  literature  for  years  to  come. 
Outside  the  immediate  circle  of  literature  there  are 
many  indications  of  this  change.  The  more  coldly 
speculative  and  intellectual  temper  of  the  time  is 
shown  in  the  growth  of  a  scientific  spirit,  shared  even 
by  the  flippant  king.  The  foundation  of  the  Royal 
Society,  in  1662,  is  one  of  the  outcomes  of  this  new 
science,  while  among  the  men  busy  in  extending  the 
knowledge  of  the  physical  world,  towers  the  great 
figure  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton  (1642-1727).  It  was  an 
age  of  unimpassioned  logic,  of  intellectual  curiosity  ; 
its  keen-edged  intelligence  occupied  itself  with 
theories  of  government  and  with  the  speculations  of 
philosophy  ;  its  frigid  good  sense  turned  to  biog- 
raphy and  memoirs,  to  history,  criticism,  and  letters. 
Thus,  as  we  should  expect,  it  was  emphatically  an 
age  of  prose.  The  relations  of  Dryden  to  such  a 
time  are  close  and  obvious,  and  he  plainly  defines  for 
us  its  mental  temper.  He  had  clearness,  mental 
grasp,  great  ease  and  finish  of  style,  and  a  hard- 
headed  and  masculine  power  ;  but  we  miss  in  him 
the  glowing  imagination  of  the  Elizabethans,  their 
mounting  ardor  of  emotion,  their  love  of  nature  and 


198        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

of  boauty,  their  moods  of  exquisite  tenderness. 
With  Dryden,  poetry  became  the  coadjutor  of  poli- 
tics, and  the  handmaid  of  religious  controversy.  We 
leave  behind  us  the  passion  of  Lear,  or  the  rapt 
visions  of  Paradise  Lost,  to  pass  into  a  new  world  of 
fashion  and  wit,  of  logic  and  vituperation. 

THE   EIGHTEENTH    CENTURY   ESSAY 

With   new   popular  needs   and   a   wider   reading 
public  came  important  changes  in  literature  and  in 

_.         ,       .  the  position  of  the  author.    Before  this, 
Changed  posi-  *  .  * 

tionofthe        authorship,  as  a  recognized  calling,  did 
author.  not  exjst  outside  of  the  writers  for  the 

stage ;  but  from  about  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne 
(1702-1714)  we  note  the  signs  of  change.  During 
the  reigns  of  Elizabeth  and  James  I.  the  successful 
playwright  reached  a  large  public,  but  for  the  writer 
of  books  the  circle  of  readers  was  comparatively 
small.  Men  did  not  attempt  to  make  a  living  by 
authorship  alone,  and  writing  was  accordingly  an 
occasional  occupation,  an  amusement  or  a  mere 
graceful  accomplishment.  Hooker  was  a  clergyman  ; 
Bacon  unhappily  gave  to  knowledge  only  such  time 
as  he  could  spare  from  law  and  politics  ;  Raleigh 
and  Sidney  represent  the  large  class  of  courtiers  and 
gentlemen  who  wrote  in  the  elegant  leisure  of  bril- 
liant and  active  lives,  while  Milton  in  his  prose,  with 
Prynne  and  Collier,  are  examples  of  those  who  used 
books  as  a  means  of  controversy.  That  large  read- 
ing public  which  in  our  own  day  enables  the  author 
to  live  solely  by  his  pen  did  not  then  exist,  and 
before  the  Civil  War  books  were  commonly  published 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  199 

through  some  powerful  patron.  But  as  wealth  and 
leisure  increased  the  general  intelligence  widened, 
and  the  author  gradually  gained  the  support  of  a 
large  number  of  readers.  Publishing  became  more 
profitable,  and  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  the  number 
of  publishing  houses  greatly  increased.  In  Queen 
Anne's  reign  a  close  connection  existed  between 
literature  and  politics,  and  many  authors  were 
encouraged  by  the  gift  of  government  positions.* 

The  author  was  still  dependent  on  a  powerful 
patron,  but  he  was  gradually  struggling  toward 
direct  reliance  on  the  public  support.  During  Anne's 
reign  the  greater  towns,  and  especially  London, 
became  more  and  more  centers  of  social  and  intel- 
lectual activity.  Coffee-houses  were  established  in 
great  numbers,  and  there  the  leading  men  in  politics, 
literature,  or  fashion,  habitually  met  to  smoke  and 
discuss  the  latest  sensations  over  the  novel  luxury  of 
coffee.  Such  friction  made  men's  minds  more  alert, 
witty,  and  alive  to  the  newest  thing.  Before  1715 
there  were  nearly  two  thousand  of  these  coffee-houses 

*  "The  splendid  efflorescence  of  genius  under  Queen  Anne 
was  in  a  very  great  degree  due  to  ministerial  encouragement, 
which  smoothed  the  path  of  many  whose  names  ,and  writings 
are  familiar  in  countless  households  where  the  statesmen  of 
that  day  are  almost  forgotten.  Among  those  who  obtained 
assistance  from  the  government  either  in  the  form  of  pensions, 
appointments,  or  professional  promotion,  were  Newton  and 
Locke,  Addison,  Swift,  Steele,  Prior,  Gay,  Rowe,  Congreve, 
Tickel.  Parnell,  and  Philips,  while  a  secret  pension  was 
offered  to  Pope,  who  was  legally  disqualified  by  his  religion 
from  receiving  government  favors." — England  in  ihe  Eigh- 
teenth Century,  by  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  vol.  vi.  p.  462. 


200        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

alone,  representing  an  immense  variety  of  social 
classes  and  political  opinions.*  With  the  spread  of 
intelligence  and  the  life  of  the  club  and  coffee-house 
the  rise  of  periodical  literature  is  directly  connected. 
Moreover,  the  liberty  of  the  press,  for  which  Milton 

strove,  had  been  established  since  1695, 
Else  of 
periodical       so  that  many  things  favored  the  rise  of 

literature.  journalism.  The  first  successful  daily 
newspaper,  the  Daily  Courant,  was  started  in  1702, 
and  eminent  men  began  to  find  a  new  channel  of 
expression  in  periodicals.  In  1704  Defoe  began  his 
famous  JReview.  This  paper,  published  two  or  three 
times  a  week,  was  written  entirely  by  himself  and 
was  not  confined  to  news.  His  articles  on  policy, 
trade,  etc.,  resemble  finished  essays,  and  his  discus- 
sions of  literature,  manners,  and  morals  in  the 
monthly  supplement  called  "Advice  from  the  Scan- 
dalous Club,"  may  be  regarded  as  forerunners  of  the 
essays  in  The  Tatler  and  Spectator.  Yet  The  Taller 
(1709),  part  newspaper  and  part  magazine,  was  such 
an  advance  on  all  earlier  attempts  in  this  direction 
that  it  may  regarded  as  beginning  a  new  order  of 
periodical  literature,  f 

The  Tatler  came  out  on  Tuesdays,  Thursdays,  and 
Saturdays  ;  it  was  sold  for  a  penny,  and  in  addition 
to  theater  notices,  advertisements,  and  current  news, 

*  Sidney's  England  in  tlie  Eighteenth  Century,  vol.  i.  p.  186. 
According  to  Halton,  New  View  of  London,  vol.  i.  p.  30,  there 
were  nearly  three  thousand  coffee-houses  in  England  in  1708. 
See  Lecky's  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,  vol.  i.  p.  616. 

f  A  good  account  of  this  will  be  found  in  Courthope's  Life 
of  Addison,  chap.  i..  in  English  Men  of  Letters  Series. 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  BESTORATION  201 

it  contained  an  essay  which  often  treated  lightly  and 
good-humoredly  some  topic  of  the  day.  Such  a  paper 
was  precisely  what  the  new  conditions  of  town  life 
required.  The  floating  talk  of  the  clubs  and  coffee- 
houses was  caught  by  the  essayist  and  compressed  into 
a  brief,  witty,  and  graceful  literary  form.  In  the  place 
of  ponderous  sentences,  moving  heavily  under  their 
many-syllabled  words  and  their  cumbrous  weight  of 
learning,  we  have  a  new  prose — deft,  quick,  sparkling, 
and  neither  too  serious  nor  too  profound.  It  is  as 
though  the  age  had  abandoned  the  massive  broad- 
sword of  an  earlier  time,  to  play  at  thrust  and  parry 
with  the  foils.  The  creators  of  this  new  periodical 
literature  are  Sir  Richard  Steele  and  his  friend  Joseph 
Addison. 

Richard  Steele   (1672-1729)  was  a  warm-hearted, 
lovable,   and   impulsive   Irishman.      Left    fatherless 
before  he  was  six  years  old,  he  gained 
admission  to  the  Charterhouse  school  in 
London,  through  the  influence  of  his  uncle.     Here  he 
met  Addison,  his  junior  by  two  months,  but  greatly 
his   senior   in   discretion  ;  and   the   two    schoolboys 
began   a  beautiful  and   almost    lifelong   friendship. 
Thackeray  writes  of  this  period  of  Steele's  life  :  "  I 
am  afraid  no  good  report  could  be  given 

by  his  masters  and  ushers  of  that  thick-     Thackeray 

.        ,  , ,     ,  ,    on  Steele. 

set,  square-faced,  black-eyed,  soft-hearted 

little  Irish  boy.  He  was  very  idle.  He  was  whipped 
deservedly  a  great  number  of  times.  Though  he  had 
very  good  parts  of  his  own,  he  got  other  boys  to  do 
his  lessons  for  him,  and  only  took  just  as  much 
trouble  as  should  enable  Kim  to  scuffle  through  his 


202        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATUBB 

exercises,  and  by  good  fortune  escape  the  flogging 
block.  One  hundred  and  fifty  years  after,  I  have 
myself  inspected,  but  only  as  an  amateur,  that  instru- 
ment of  righteous  torture  still  existing,  and  in  occa- 
sional use,  in  a  secluded  private  apartment  of  the  old 
Charterhouse  school ;  and  have  no  doubt  it  is  the 
very  counterpart,  if  not  the  ancient  and  interesting 
machine  itself,  at  which  poor  Dick  Steele  submitted 
himself  to  the  tormentors. 

"Besides  being  very  kind,  lazy,  anJ  good-natured, 
this  boy  went  invariably  into  debt  with  the  tart- 
woman;  ran  out  of  bounds,  and  entered  into  pecuni- 
ary, or  rather  promissory,,  engagements  with  the 
neighboring  lollipop  venders  and  piemen — exhibited 
an  early  fondness  for  drinking  mum  and  sack,  and 
borrowed  from  all  his  comrades  who  had  money  to 
lend.  I  have  no  sort  of  authority  for  the  statements 
here  made  of  Steele's  early  life  ;  but  if  the  child  is 
father  of  the  man,  the  father  of  young  Steele  of 
Merton,  who  left  Oxford  without  taking  a  degree, 
and  entered  into  the  Life  Guards — the  father  of  Cap- 
tain Steele  of  Lucas'  Fusiliers,  who  got  his  company 
through  the  patronage  of  my  Lord  Cutts — the  father 
of  Mr.  Steele,  the  Commissioner  of  Stamps,  the 
editor  of  The  Gazette,  The  Tatler,  and  Spectator,  the 
expelled  member  of  Parliament,  and  the  author  of 
the  Tender  Husband  and  the  Conscious  Lovers  ;  if 
man  and  boy  resembled  each  other,  Dick  Steele,  the 
schoolboy,  must  have  been  one  of  the  most  generous, 
good-for-nothing,  amiable  little  creatures  that  ever 
conjugated  the  verb  tupto,  I  beat,  tuptomai,  I  am 
v/hipped,  in  any  school  in  Great  Britain. 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  203 

"  Almost  every  gentleman  who  does  me  the  honor 
to  hear  me  will  remember  that  the  very  greatest 
character  which  he  has  seen  in  the  course  of  his  life, 
and  the  person  to  whom  he  has  looked  up  with  the 
greatest  wonder  and  reverence,  was  the  head  boy  of 
his  school.  .  .  I  have  seen  great  men  in  my  time, 
but  never  such  a  great  one  as  that  head  boy  of 
my  childhood  ;  we  all  thought  he  must  be  Prime 
Minister,  and  I  was  disappointed  on  meeting  him  in 
after  life  to  find  he  was  no  more  than  six  feet  high. 

"Dick  Steele,  the  Charterhouse  gownboy,  con- 
tracted such  an  admiration  in  the  years  of  his 
childhood,  and  retained  it  faithfully  through  his  life. 
Through  the  school,  and  through  the  world,  whither- 
soever his  strange  fortune  led  this  erring,  wayward, 
affectionate  creature,  Joseph  Addison  was  always  his 
head  boy.  Addison  wrote  his  exercises.  Addison 
did  his  best  themes.  He  ran  on  Addison'  messages  ; 
fagged  for  him  and  blacked  his  shoes  ;  to  be  in  Joe's 
company  was  Dick's  greatest  pleasure  ;  and  he  took 
a  sermon  or  caning  from  his  monitor  with  the  most 
boundless  reverence,  acquiescence,  and  affection."  * 

Leaving  school,  Steele  went  to  Oxford,  then  en- 
tered the  army,  and  ultimately  rose  to  the  rank  of 
captain.  He  wrote  a  religious  work,  T/ie  Christian 
Hero,  by  which  he  complained  he  gained  a  reputation 
for  piety  which  he  found  it  difficult  to  live  up  to. 
To  counteract  this,  and  to  "  enliven  his  character," 
he  wrote  a  comedy  called  The  Funeral  (1701). 
After  producing  several  other  plays  Steele  drifted 
into  journalism,  and  after  writing  for  a  paper  called 
*  Thackeray's  Enfliih  Humorittt,  p.  200. 


204        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

The    Gazette,   founded    The    Tatler.      After   a    few 
weeks  Addison  became  a  contributor,  but  even  before 

,   this  the  success  of  the  paper  was  assured. 
Steele  founds 

"The Tat-  The  Tatler  was  discontinued  in  1711,  to 
ler,"  1709.  mate  way  for  The  Spectator,  a  joint 
enterprise  of  Addison  and  Steele.  This  ran  until 
1713,  when  it  was  succeeded  by  The  Guardian, 
the  last  periodical  for  which  the  friends  worked 
together.  Steele  was  extravagant,  good-natured, 
and  fond  of  fine  clothes.  When  he  had  money 
he  spent  it  like  a  prince,  and  so  did  not  have  it 
long.  He  "  outlived  his  wife,  his  income,  his  health, 
almost  everything  but  his  kind  heart.  That  ceased 
to  trouble  him  in  1729,  when  he  died,  worn  out  and 
almost  forgotten  by  his  contemporaries,  in  Wales, 
where  he  had  the  remnant  of  a  property."* 

Joseph  Addison  (1672-1719)  was  more  reserved, 
shy,  and  dignified  than  his  rollicking  friend  Dick 
Steele.  He  was  the  son  of  a  clergyman, 
and  he  had  himself  so  much  of  the  cler- 
ical gravity  that  a  contemporary  called  him  "a  par- 
son in  a  tye-wig."  Like  Steele  he  went  to  Oxford 
after  leaving  the  Charterhouse  school,  but  unlike 
Steele  won  a  scholarship  by  some  Latin  verses.  Like 
most  of  the  authors  of  the  time  Addison  was  obliged 
to  depend  on  patronage  for  a  living.  He  was  granted 
a  pension  in  return  for  a  laudatory  poem  on  the  Peace 
of  Ryswick  (1697).  This  he  lost  on  the  king's 
death  (William  III.,  1702),  and  in  the  following 
year  he  returned  to  England  from  a  Continental  tour, 
with  no  certain  prospects.  Poetry  came  a  second 
*  Thackeray's  Englitk  Humori»U,  p.  210. 


JOSEPH     ADDISON 


THE  ENGLAND   OF  THE   RESTORATION  205 

time  to  his  aid.  He  made  a  great  hit  by  a  poem 
called  Th*,  Campaign,  in  which  he  celebrated  the 
Duke  of  Marlborough's  great  victory  at  Blenheim, 
and  was  appointed  to  a  government  position.  In 
1713  he  brought  out  his  tragedy  of  Cato,  which  gave 
him  a  prodigious  reputation,  but,  as  we  know,  he  had 
before  this  begun  a  work  of  even  more  permanent 
importance  in  his  contributions  to  The  Tatler  and 
Spectator.  As  an  essayist,  Addison  possessed  a  finer 
art  than  that  of  Steele,  yet  it  was  Steele  who  first 
suggested  what  Addison  brought  to  perfection.  This 
was  the  case  with  the  famous  character  of  Sir  Roger 
de  Coverley,  the  typical  country  gentleman  of  the 
time.  Both  Steele  and  Addison  wrote  ^^gon  an^ 
as  moralists,  and  in  their  work  one  sees  Steele  social 
that  the  reaction  against  the  excesses  of  re*ormers- 
the  Restoration  had  already  begun.  Their,  method 
as  reformers  is  in  keeping  with  the  spirit  of  the  time. 
They  did  not  assail  vice  and  folly  with  indignant 
eloquence,  but,  with  delicate  tact  and  unvarying 
good  humor,  they  gently  made  them  ridiculous. 
Addison  regretted  the  emptiness  and  frivolity  of  the 
fashionable  women,  and  set  himself  to  bring  a  new 
interest  into  their  lives.  "  There  are  none,"  he  says, 
"to  whom  this  paper  will  be  more  useful  than  to  the 
female  world,"  *  and  his  direct  appeal  to  the  women 
readers  is  memorable  in  the  history  of  the  literature. 
S.ich  papers  as  "The  Fine  Lady's  Journal,"  "  The 
Exercise  of  the  Fan,"  "  The  Dissection  of  a  Beau's 
Head,"  and  of  a  "Coquette's  Heart,"  with  their  mi?mte 
observation  and  kindly  satire  of  manners,  are  highly 
*  Spectator,  No  10.  Read  this  entire  paper 


206        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

representative.  In  "Ned  Softly,"  Addison  laughs  at 
the  literary  doctrines  of  the  day,  showing  us  against 
a  background  of  club  life  a  "  very  pretty  poet,"  who 
studies  the  approved  maxims  of  poetry  before  sitting 
down  to  write,  and  who  spends  a  whole  hour  in 
adapting  the  turn  of  the  words  in  two  lines. 

Finally,   as   we   shall   see   shortly,   the    character 

studies  in  the  early  eighteenth-century  essays  were 

The  essay     *^ie  forerunners  of  a  new  art.     Richard  - 

and  the         son  and   Fielding,  and  their  innumerable 

novel*          successors,  were  to  continue  in  the  novel 

of  domestic  life  that  work  which,  in  his  own  fashion, 

the  essayist  had  so  inimitably  begun. 

The  character  and  work  of  Addison  cannot  be  better 
Hummed  up  than  in  the  famous  tribute  of  Macaulay, 
who  calls  him  "  the  unsullied  statesman  ; 
Addison.        tne  accomplished  scholar,  the  great  sat- 
irist who  alone  knew  how  to  use  ridicule 
without  abusing  it  ;  who,  without  inflicting  a  wound, 
effected  a  great  social  reform,  and  who  reconciled 
wit  and  virtue  after  a  long  and  painful  separation, 
during  which  wit  had  been  led  astray  by  profligacy, 
and  virtue  by  fanaticism."  * 

STUDY  LIST 
ADDISON  AND  STEELE 

BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.  The  Select  Essays  of  Addison 
together  with  Macaulay's  essay  on  Addison's  Life  and  Writ- 
ings, edited  by  Samuel  Thurber,  contains  some  of  the  best 
essays  and  will  be  found  a  valuable  book.  Courthope's  Life 
of  Addison,  English  Men  of  Letters  Series.  Austin  Dobson's 

*  Macaulay,  Essay  on  Life  and  Writings  of  Addison. 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  207 

Life  of  Steele,  in  English  "Worthies.  Austin  DoDson's  Eigh- 
teenth Century  Essays  contains  selections  from  the  most  impor- 
tant periodicals  of  the  century.  Days  with  Sir  Roger  de 
Coverley  (Macmillan)  is  an  attractive  collection  of  the  De 
Coverley  papers  only,  and  may  be  used  with  class.  Thack- 
eray's English  Humorists,  also  the  passages  in  his  Henry 
£»mond  about  Addison  and  Steele,  will  be  found  interesting. 


THE    HISTORY    OF   THE    NOVEL 

We  can  understand  why  it  was  that  this  unideal  and 
unroraantic  epoch,  with  its  growth  of  prose,  its  pre- 
vailing common  sense,  its  firm  grasp  of  the  things 
which  can  be  seen  and  handled,  should  have  brought 
ene  especial  kind  of  fiction  to  a  higher  development 
than  it  had  yet  known  in  England.  The  hard  prac- 
tical intelligence  of  the  time,  weak  in  high  emotions 
and  in  its  sense  of  the  mystical  and  the  unseen,  was  cor- 
respondingly strong  in  the  power  of  closely  observing 
and  faithfully  reproducing  the  passing  aspects  of 
everyday  life.  Such  conditions  favored  the  rise  of 
the  novel  of  domestic  life  and  manners,  which,  in  the 
hands  of  Defoe,  Richardson,  and  Fielding,  became 
virtually  a  new  literary  form.  Yet  the  novel,  while 
one  of  the  most  original  and  important  contributions 
which  the  eighteenth  century  made  to  literature, 
was  not  a  wholly  new  creation,  but  rather  a  new 
form  given  to  a  very  ancient  kind  of  writing  by  the 
changed  temper  of  the  times.  In  part,  at  least,  it 
grew  out  of  the  earlier  romances  and  short  stories, 
just  as  the  Elizabethan  drama  grew  out  of,  yet  dif- 
fered from,  the  earlier  dramatic  forms.  To  make 


208       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

this   clear,  it   is   necessary   to   speak   briefly  of  the 
-history  of  English  fiction  before  this  time. 

The  love  of  a  story  is  so  widespread  and  deep- 

seated  that  it  seems  natural  to  the  race.     We  delight 

in    stories   before    we    are   out    of    the 


e  nursery,  and  the  world  has  loved  to 
tell  and  hear  them  since  its  childhood. 
Many  of  the  noblest  stories  of  early  times  were 
in  verse,  such  as  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey,  the 
latter  perhaps  the  most  fascinating  story  of  an- 
tiquity. To  this  class  our  own  Beowulf  belongs. 
We  may  thus  think  of  the  epic  poem  as  a  kind  of 
exalted  precursor  of  the  novel,  supplying,  after  its 
own  fashion,  the  same  deep,  human  need.  Besides 
the  great  stories  in  verse,  there  was,  of  course,  an 
immense  mass  of  myth  and  folk-lore,  and  some  of 
these  world-stories  have  never  ceased  to  delight 
children  down  to  our  day. 

After  the  classic  epics,  we  reach  another  stage  of 
development  in  the  mediaeval  romance.  This,  in  its 
original  meaning,  was  a  narrative  poem  in  one  of  the 
romance  dialects,  as  old  French  or  Proven9al.  These 
romances  may  be  thought  of  as  a  mediaeval  form  of 
the  epic  ;  they  embodied  the  chivalric  ideas  peculiar 
to  the  time,  and  marked  an  important  step  toward 
the  creation  of  the  novel. 

We   have   seen   how  these   romances    came    into 

England  with  the  Norman   Conquest,  passing  fi'om 

French   to   English  paraphrases   in    the 

in  En  0][najCe  metrical  romances  of  the  thirteenth  cen- 

tury.    Another  step  toward  the  novel  is 

taken  when  some  of  these  stories  are  retold  in  English 


THE  ENGLAND   OF  THE  RESTORATION  209 

prose  :  Malory's  Morte  d"1  Arthur  may  be  taken  aa 
an  example  of  this  important  change  in  form.  The 
revival  of  learning  infused  new  life  into  English 
story-telling,  as  it  did  into  almost  every  other  form 
of  literary  art,  and  in  the  sixteenth  century  the 
romances  increased  in  number  and  importance.  Be- 
sides the  romances  produced  by  English  writers, 
great  numbers  of  Italian,  French,  and  Spanish  stories 
were  translated  or  paraphrased,  and,  put  forth 
separately  or  in  collections,  became  widely  popular. 
Paynter's  Palace  of  Pleasure,  (vol.  i.  1566),  a  good 
example  of  such  collections,  contained  stories  from 
Boccaccio,  "  and  other  italian  and  french  authours." 
From  Spain  came  the  famous  romance,  Amadis  de 
Gaul.  Through  such  channels  a  flood  of  foreign 
romance  ponred  in  upon  the  English.  Romantic 
stories  piled  on  the  London  bookstalls,  and  eagerly 
bought  and  read,  furnished  plots  and  suggestions  to 
the  English  dramatist  and  story-teller.  Shakespeare 
ased  them,  and  Sidney  modeled  his  Arcadia  in  part 
upon  the  Amadis  de  Gaul. 

The  general  tone  of  the  Elizabethan  stories  was 
poetic  and  fanciful  ;  many  of  them  were  pastoral 
or  chivalric  in  character.  It  is  true  that  both  Greene 
and  Nash  wrote  stories,  "  the  main  object  of  which 
was  to  paint,  to  the  life,  ordinary  men  and  char- 
acters," but  most  of  the  famous  stories  of  the  time 
were  as  remote  from  the  prosaic  realities  of  existence 
as  a  Watteau  shepherdess.  Thus  More's  Utopia,  if  we 
choose  to  consider  it  a  romance  at  all,  introduces  us 
to  a  world  that  exists  only  as  an  ideal  ;  John  Lyly's 
Euphue*  is  couched  in  a  highly-wrought  and  affected 


210       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

style,  elaborately  artificial,  although  close  enough  to 
the  strange  humor  of  the  time  to  become  a  passing 
affectation  of  the  court.  Lodge's  Rosalind — the 
original  of  Shakespeare's  As  You  Like  It — is  a  pas- 
toral idyl,  where  shepherds  and  shepherdesses  utter 
high-flown  sentiments,  and  sing  madrigals  and 
"  pleasant  eclogues "  under  the  boughs  of  Arden 
forest.  The  very  title  of  Sidney's  Arcadia  takes  us 
into  this  land  of  pastoral  romance,  where  the  shepherd 
boy  pipes  "  as  though  he  should  never  be  old."  *  Such 
works  aimed  less  at  the  lifelike  delineation  of  char- 
acter, than  at  the  creation  of  a  world  transfigured  by 
the  light  of  a  chivalric  or  idyllic  atmosphere.  Yet 
such  stories,  however  alien  to  the  life  of  our  day, 
were  far  less  removed  from  that  of  the  Elizabethan. 
Then  the  spirit  of  chivalry  lived,  and  the  imagination 
was  liberated  and  quickened  by  the  swift  advance,  the 
stir  and  strangeness  of  the  time.  The  Elizabethan 
romance  is  the  true  child  of  the  age  which  produced 
such  works  as  Faustus,  As  You  Like  It,  The  Tem- 
pest, The  Faithful  Shepherdess,  and  The  faerie 
Queene. 

During    the   seventeenth    century    the    romance, 
instead  of  advancing  toward  truthfulness  and  simplic- 
Seventeenth-  *tv'  became  more  full  of  false  and  extrava- 
century         gant  heroics,  and  farther  removed  from 
romances.       actual  life.     French  romances  were  im- 
mensely popular,  in  the  original,  or  in  the  translation, 
and  in  spite  of  a  few  attempts  to  stem  the  current, 
the  general  tone  was  pompous  and  inflated.     Jusse- 
rand   says   of  this   period  :      "  The   hundred   years 
*  Arcadia,  bk.  i. 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  211 

which  follow  Shakespeare's  death  are,  therefore, 
taken  altogether,  a  period  of  little  invention  and 
progress  for  romance  literature.  The  only  new  devel- 
opment it  takes  consists  in  the  exaggeration  of  the 
heroic  element,  of  which  there  was  already  enough 
in  many  an  Elizabethan  novel  ;  it  consists,  in  fact, 
in  the  magnifying  of  a  defect."  *  For  the  time, 
farther  progress  in  the  old  lines  of  romance-writing 
became  impossible.  After  the  Restoration  the  rhap- 
sodies of  a  pseudo-chivalry  became  more  and  more 
out  of  keeping  with  the  open-eyed,  practical,  and 
comparatively  modern  temper  of  the  time.  Prose 
was  discarding  its  ponderous,  or  elaborately  affected 
manner,  and  becoming  plainer,  more  serviceable,  and 
more  direct.  Under  these  conditions  a  new  form  of 
story-telling,  distinguished  by  its  skill  in  the  delinea- 
tion of  character,  its  simple  style,  free  from  fac- 
titious embellishments,  its  sharp  and  clear-cut 
presentations  of  ordinary  life,  gradually  took  form. 
It  is  true  that  this  kind  of  fiction  had  been  partially 
anticipated  at  a  much  earlier  period.  As  far  back  as 
the  Elizabethan  days,  Thomas  Nash,  the  forerunner 
of  the  realistic  novelists,  had  introduced  his  readers 
to  well-defined  types  of  contemporary  character.  In 
Pierce  Penniless,  for  instance,  he  describes,  among 
many  other  characteristic  personages,  "  The  prodigal 
young  master  "  who  falls  in  a  quarreling  humor  with 
Fortune,  because  she  made  him  not  "  King  of  the 
Indies  ";  he  swears  that  "  neither  father  nor  brother 
will  keep  him  under  "  ;  that  he  will  go  to  sea,  "  and 

*  The  English  Novei  in  the  Time  of  Shakespeare,  p.  41? 


212       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

teare  the  gold  out  of  Spanish  throats,  but  he  will 
have  it,  by'r  ladye."  * 

Ben  Jonson  introduced  similar  character-sketches 
into  his  Cynthia's  Revels  (1600),  and  in  the  seven- 
teenth century  several  books  were  published,  consist- 
ing entirely  of  short  character-studies,  unconnected 
by  any  framework  of  narrative.  Among  these,  one 
of  the  best  known  is  the  Characters  of  Sir  Thomas 
Overbury  (pub.  1614),  a  courtier  and  minor  poet. 
Other  "  character-writers  "  of  the  time  were  Joseph 
Hall  (Characters  of  Virtues  and  Vices,  pub.  1608) 
and  John  Earle  (Microcosmography,  1628).  Thus, 
while  in  the  tedious  and  drawn-out  stories  of  the 
romance-writer,  the  depiction  of  character  was  com- 
monly neglected,  a  form  of  prose  became  popular,  in 
which  character  was  the  sole  interest.  But  these 
character-writers  portrayed  a  type  rather  than  an 
individual ;  and  the  general  characteristics  of  this 
type,  or  class,  were  exhibited  merely  by  the  dry 
enumeration  of  peculiarities  of  life,  dress,  or  manners. 
A  further  step  was  taken  toward  the  modern  novel 
of  character  when  Steele  and  Addison,  in  their  peri- 
The  es  a  odical  essays,  depicted  a  type  of  contem- 
and  the  porary  life,  not  by  a  formal  enumeration 
novel.  Qf  qua]itie8)  but  through  living  men  and 

women  shown  acting  and  conversing  in  the  midst  of 
their  daily  surroundings.  In  the  De  Coverley  pa- 
pers, with  their  fresh  and  faithful  pictures  of  English 
town  and  country  life,  with  their  grasp  of  character, 
their  amusing  or  pathetic  scenes  and  incidents,  we 
have  all  the  elements  but  one  of  the  modern  novel. 
*  Works  of  TJwmas  Nash,  Grosart's  ed.  ii.  p.  29. 


THE   ENGLAND    OF   THE   RESTORATION  213 

Here,  indeed,  is  a  novel  held  in  solution.  Had  these 
elements  been  united  by  a  regularly  constructed  plot, 
bringing  an  added  interest,  and  binding  scene  to  scene, 
and  character  to  character,  by  a  closer  and  more  in- 
evitable sequence,  we  should  have  had  a  story  to  set 
side  by  side  with  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield.  Here  and 
there,  in  the  De  Coverley  essays,  are  persons  and 
situations  almost  identical  with  those  which  were 
soon  to  find  a  place  in  the  masterpieces  of  English 
fiction.  The  ingenuous  comments  of  Sir  Roger  at  the 
play  may  be  compared  with  the  provincial  criticisms 
of  Partridge  on  Mr.  Garrick's  Hamlet  in  Field- 
ing's Tom  Jones.  Sir  Roger  himself  may  be  appro- 
priately placed  beside  the  contrast-study  of  'Squire 
Western  in  the  same  novel.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we 
compare  these  charming  sketches  of  Addison's  with 
what  has  preceded  them,  we  realize  that  the  "  Coun- 
try Gentleman  "  in  Overbury's  Characters  is  a  mere 
aggregation  of  qualities,  while  Sir  Roger,  represent- 
ing the  same  class,  is  no  type  or  abstraction,  but  a 
veritable  man,  whose  little  oddities  we  know  and 
understand — a  friend  we  love  and  mourn  for. 

Having  advanced  thus  far,  we  have  reached  the 
very  boundaries  of  a  new  development  in  the  story- 
writer's  art.  But  into  this  region  Addison  and 
Steele  did  not  enter.  The  next  great  step  toward 
the  modern  novel  was  left  for  a  man  whom  Addison 
scorned,  one  of  the  most  brilliant,  indomitable,  and 
enigmatical  of  English  writers,  Daniel  Defoe. 


214       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

STUDY  LIST 
TEE  BISTORT  OF  THE  NOVEL 

The  study  of  fiction  has  already  begun  to  hold  a  more 
recognized  and  important  place  in  systematic  literary  study. 
Professor  "Walter  Raleigh's  recent  book,  The  English  Novel, 
Being  a  Short  Sketch  of  Its  History  from  ilw  Earliest  Times  to 
the  Appearance  of  Waverley  (Scribners),  is  warmly  recom- 
mended as  interesting  and  helpful.  Another  useful  recent 
book  is  An  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  English  Fiction, 
by  W.  E.  Simonds  (Heath).  In  this  book  comparatively  brief 
space  is  given  to  the  history  of  the  novel ;  only  about  50  pages 
being  devoted  to  its  development  from  the  beginning  to  Scott, 
as  compared  to  283  in  the  "  Short  Sketch  "  of  Professor  Ra- 
leigh's. On  the  other  hand,  Professor  Simonds  includes  some 
novelists  later  than  Scott,  American  as  well  as  English,  and 
devotes  separate  sections  to  the  "  Tendencies  of  To-day"  and 
"Books  for  Reference  and  Reading."  Besides  this,  more 
than  half  the  book  is  taken  up  with  selections,  beginning  with 
Beowulf  and  ending  with  Sterne's  Tristram  Shandy.  Both 
books  can  be  used  with  advantage.  For  a  fuller  and  very 
important  study  of  the  early  history  of  the  novel,  v.  The 
English  Novel  in  the  Time  of  Shakespeare,  by  J.  J.  Jusserand. 
For  the  early  period  v.  further  ten  Brink's  Early  English 
Literature,  Brooke's  Early  English  Literature,  and  Morley's 
English  Writers.  For  general  reference  «.  Masson's  British 
Novelists  and  Their  Styles  (1859) ;  B.  Tuckerman's  History  of 
Pi'ose  Fiction;  S.  Lanier's  The  English  Novel  (1883)  [often  elo- 
quent and  inspiring,  but  totally  out  of  proportion  as  a  history 
of  English  fiction]  ;  William  Forsythe's  Novels  and  Novelists  of 
the  Eighteenth  Century.  Four  Tears  of  Novel  Reading  ;  An 
Account  of  an  Experiment  in  Popularizing  the  Study  of  Fic- 
tion;  Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Richard  O.  Moulton 
{Heath,  1895),  differs  from  the  preceding  in  being  exclusively 
given  up  to  definite  suggestions  for  the  systematic  study  of 
novels.  It  contains  the  record  of  four  years'  systematic  study 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  215 

by  a  "  Classical  Novel-reading  Union  "  in  a  mining  village  in 
Northumberland,  England.  There  are  problems  given  in 
connection  -with  special  novels,  and  essays  by  some  of  the 
meml>ers  of  the  Union.  The  student  may  also  be  interested 
in  getting  the  novelists'  views  of  the  novel  in  "W.  D.  Howells' 
Tfm  Art  of  Fiction,  and  F.  Marion  Crawford's  Tlie  Novel, 
What  It  Is. 

l 

DANIEL   DEFOE. 1661-1731 

Defoe's  life  is  charged  with  the  spirit  of  adventure. 
Although  he  was  the  most  prolific  English  writer  of 
the  time,  there  are  few  men  in  all  the  literature  more 
free  from  that  studious  seclusion  which  is  sometimes 
the  badge  of  the  author's  profession.  He  lived  in  an 
age  of  wily  politicians,  of  corrupt  and  shifting  poli- 
tics ;  an  age  of  slanderous  and  scurrilous  controversy 
in  matters  of  Church  and  state,  when  the  pamphlet  and 
the  satire  were  formidable  weapons  of  war.  A  born 
fighter,  though  lie  fought  with  his  pen,  Defoe  was 
both  in  and  of  this  time  ;  we  think  of  him  as  dog- 
gedly shoving  his  way  through  a  mob  of  angry  ad- 
versaries, returning  every  stroke  with  interest.  The 
spirited  stories  of  life  and  adventure  with  which, 
toward  the  close  of  his  life,  he  captivated  his  readers, 
were  the  work  of  a  man  whose  own  experience  went 
far  outside  the  walls  of  a  library  ;  a  man  who  had 
plunged  into  the  swift  currents  of  the  life  about  him 
with  an  unconquerable  zest  and  vigor.  He  had  stood 
in  the  pillory  and  had  been  two  years  in  Newgate  ;  he 
had  owned  a  splendid  mansion  and  kept  his  pleasure- 
boat  and  his  coach.  He  wrote  of  himself : 

"  No  man  has  tasted  differing  fortunes  more. 
And  thirteen  times  I  have  been  rich  and  poor." 


216       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEBATUBE 

Daniel  Foe,  or  Defoe,  as  he  afterward  called  him- 
eelf,  was  born,  in  1661,  in  the  parish  of  St.  Giles, 
Cripplegate,  a  district  of  London  just  outside  the  limit 
of  the  old  wall.  Socially,  his  position  differed  from 
that  of  many  of  his  great  contemporaries  in  literature. 
By  inheritance  and  conviction  he  was  a  Dissenter  in 
religion  ;  by  occupation  he  belonged  to  the  trading, 
or  merchant,  class.  His  father,  James  Foe,  was  a 
butcher,  and  appears  to  have  been  well-to-do  and 
respected.  James  Foe  wished  his  son  to  enter  the 
ministry,  but  Defoe's  bent  lay  in  other  directions. 
He  left  school  about  1675,  and  after  some  years  of 
preparation,  set  up  for  himself  in  the  hosiery  busi- 
ness. Two  things  combined  to  make  the  young 
tradesman's  life  different  from  that  led  by  so  many 
of  his  class — his  active  interest  in  politics  and  his 
ability  to  write.  These  began  very  early  to  tell  upon 
his  career.  We  find  him  turning  from  his  business 
to  write  political  pamphlets,  and  taking  part  in  the 
ill-fated  rebellion  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  in  1685. 
For  many  years  business,  politics,  pamphleteering, 
and  journalism  made  up  the  mixed  interests  of  his 
active  life.  On  the  accession  of  William  and  Mary 
^(1689)  he  became  a  strenuous  supporter  of  the  Gov- 
ernment. In  1692,  perhaps  because  he  neglected  his 
business  for  political  controversy,  he  failed  for  seven- 
teen thousand  pounds.  We  next  find  him  connected 
with  a  brick  and  tile  manufactory  at  Tilbury,  a  little 
town  on  the  Thames  below  London.  This  has  been 
called  "  the  most  prosperous  and  honorable  period  of 
his  life."  He  was  honestly  in  accord  with  the  Gov- 
ernment and  an  enthusiastic  supporter  of  the  King  ; 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  BESTORATION  217 

be  lived  in  comfort  in  a  house  near  the  river,  com- 
posing many  verses,  and  writing  his  first  great  politi- 
cal pamphlet,  a  powerful  argument  in  defense  of  a 
standing  army  (1697),  which  laid  the  corner  stone  of 
his  reputation.  In  1701  he  became  }Tet  «Tlie  xrue- 
rcore  widely  known,  by  The  True-born  born  Eng- 
Bngtufaman,  the  most  famous  of  his  Ashman." 
satirical  poems.  The  occasion  of  this  vigorous  pro- 
duction was  the  growing  unpopularity  of  the  King, 
and  the  violent  attacks  which  had  been  made  upon 
him  and  his  Dutch  followers  because  of  their  foreign 
birth.  Defoe  confronted  the  storm  of  popular  feel- 
ing with  a  splendid  audacity,  and  belabored  the 
whole  English  nation  with  no  light  hand.  He 
pointed  to  the  mixed  descent  of  those  who  claimed 
to  be  "  true-born"  Englishmen  ;  he  enumerated  the 
various  foreign  elements  out  of  which  the  so-called 
English  were  composed,  and  showed  how 

"  From  a  mixture  of  all  kinds  began 
That  heterogeneous  thing,  an  Englishman." 

Then,  facing  his  public,  he  drove  the  argument  home : 

"  For  Englishmen  to  boast  of  generation 
Cancels  their  knowledge  and  lampoons  the  nation. 
A  true-born  Englishman  's  a  contradiction, 
In  speech  an  irony,  in  fact  a  fiction." 

But  a  change  in  Defoe's  fortunes  was  at  hand. 
The  death  of  the  King  in  1702,  to  whom  he  had 
become  personally  known,  was  a  severe 
blow  to  his  prospects,  and  the  following 
year  involved  him  in  serious  difficulties. 
The  position  of  the  Dissenters  in  the  State  was  an  agi- 


218        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LU'ERATUBE 

tating  political  issue  of  the  time,  some  High  Church- 
men advocating  extreme  measures  against  those  who 
would  not  conform  to  the  Established  Church. 
Defoe's  contribution  to  the  matter  was  an  anonymous 
pamphlet,  The  Shortest  Way  with  Dissenters  (1702), 
ostensibly  written  by  a  violent  High-Church  partisan. 
Instead  of  arguing  against  intolerance,  Defoe  took 
the  side  of  his  opponents,  and  by  stating  their  posi- 
tion in  the  extremest  and  most  thorough-goinpj 
fashion,  endeavored  to  arouse  a  feeling  against 
them.  His  "shortest  way"  with  Dissenters  is,  to 
banish  the  congregations  and  hang  the  preachers. 
The  result  of  the  pamphlet  was  almost  farcical. 
Defoe  had  impersonated  so  well  that  both  sides  took 
the  tract  literally.  The  Dissenters  were  furious,  and 
some  Churchmen  delighted.  Nor  were  matters 
mended  when  the  truth  was  known.  Defoe  says 
the  whole  "world  flew  at  him  like  a  dog  with  a 
broom  at  his  tail."  He  was  condemned  by  the 
authorities  to  stand  in  the  pillory  at  Temple-bar,  and 
he  was  imprisoned  for  nearly  two  years  in  Newgate. 
But  imprisonment  had  no  power  to  check  his  tireless 
activity.  During  this  interval  he  wrote  eighteen 
political  pamphlets,  and  started  his  JKeview  (1701) 
which  marks  an  epoch  in  English  journalism.*  After 
his  release  from  prison  (1704)  his  course  became  less 
open  and  straightforward.  He  wrote  with  his  usual 
rapidity,  and  was  employed  as  a  secret  agent  for  the 
government.  Hig  situation  was  a  difficult  one,  but 

*  The  Review  alone  is  an  instance  of  Defoe's  fluency  as  a 
writer  ;  he  wrote  it  entirely  himself  and  continued  it  foi 
several  years. 


THE  ENGLAND   OF  THE  RESTORATION  £19 

while,  on  the  whole,  he  seems  to  have  worked 
honestly  for  what  he  believed  the  best  interests  of 
his  country,  the  methods  he  employed  cannot  always 
be  commended.  Such,  in  brief,  was  the  general 
character  of  the  first  sixty  years  of  Defoe's  life. 
His  powers  had  been  almost  entirely  devoted  to 
journalism,  or  to  controversial  publications  of  a  jour- 
nalistic character.  If  he  had  ended  his  work  at  an  age 
when  most  men  have  given  the  world  their  best,  he 
must  have  held  but  a  minor  place  in  literature.  He 
was  a  hanger-on  of  politicians,  outside  the  select 
coterie  of  great  wits,  a  mark  for  the  shafts  of  Swift 
and  Pope  ;  even  the  sedate  Addison  spoke  of  him 
with  contempt,  yet  in  1719,  at  sixty,  he  published 
Robinson  Crusoe.  The  right  man  arid 
the  right  subject  had  wonderfully  come 
together,  and  the  result  was  an  unexpected  master- 
piece. A  new  road  thus  found,  Defoe's  business 
instinct  led  him  to  follow  up  his  success  with  a  re- 
markable series  of  stories  which  made  his  closing 
years  the  most  brilliant  literary  period  of  his  life. 
Among  these  "secondary  novels,"  as  Lamb  called 
them,  Tfte  Memoirs  of  a  Cavalier,  The  Life  of  Cap- 
tain Singleton,  Moll  Flanders,  and  The  History  of 
Colonel  Jack,  are  perhaps  the  best  known.  They 
are  vigorous,  graphic,  often  coarse  ;.  they  introduce 
us  to  the  life  of  the  criminal  and  the  outcast  ;  they 
abound  in  adventures  by  land  and  sea  ;  they  take  us 
to  the  unmapped  interior  of  Africa,  or  to  the  London 
slums.  As  a  whole,  none  of  them  is  equal  to  their 
great  forerunner,  yet,  with  Robinson  Crusoe,  they 
laid  the  foundation  of  English  realistic  fiction. 


220       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Defoe's  fecundity,  his  late  success  in  a  new  field, 
is  sufficiently  remarkable  ;  it  would  be  well-nigh 

inexplicable,  did  we  not  realize  that  these 
hticJ8Dirit  "  fict^ons  are  a  natural,  although  surprising, 

outcome  of  his  long  career  as  journalist 
and  pamphleteer.  When  his  literary  contemporaries 
charged  him  with  lack  of  scholarship — although,  in 
fact,  he  was  a  man  of  wide  information — they  prob- 
ably felt  in  him  that  intense  journalistic  spirit  which 
they  instinctively  recognized  as  different  from  the 
scholastic  pattern.  A  man  of  a  new  type,  Defoe 
had  that  modernness  which  belongs  to  the  man 
whose  business  it  is  to  keep  up  with  the  news  of  the 
day  ;  he  understood,  and  wrote  to,  his  public,  with  a 
business  man's  feeling  for  the  state  of  the  market. 
Quick  to  see  what  was  likely  to  attract,  he  furnished 
the  public  with  highly  circumstantial  accounts  of 
men  or  events  of  immediate  public  interest.  In  these 
sketches  Defoe  was  quite  unconsciously  feeling  his 
way  toward  the  novel.  Purporting  to  be  true,  they 
are  often  such  a  wonderful  mixture  of  truth  and 
invention  that  the  line  between  fact  and  fiction  is 
almost  indistinguishable.  The  death  of  some  public 
character — Peter  the  Great,  Jack  Sheppard  the  high- 
wayman, or  the  Rev.  Daniel  Williams  the  Presbyte- 
rian divine — became  the  occasion  of  a  memoir  or 
biography.  A  storm,  an  earthquake,  or  the  hanging 
of  a  housebreaker  gave  Defoe  what  in  modern  news- 
paper slang  would  be  termed  a  "  good  story,"  and 
Defoe's  novels  were  but  reporters'  "  stories "  in  an 
expanded  and  more  purely  imaginative  form.  ^Robin- 
son Crusoe  itself  was  founded  on  the  adventures  of 


THE  ENGLAND  OP  THE   RESTORATION  221 

Alexander  Selkirk,  an  English  sailor,  abandoned  by 
his  comrades  on  Juan  Fernandez,  and,  as  we  should 
say,  "  interviewed  "  by  Defoe  at  Bristol.  As  Mr. 
Minto  remarks  :  "  From  writing  biographies  with  real 
names  attached  to  them,  it  was  but  a  short  step  to 
writing  biographies  with  fictitious  names."  *  Defoe 
thus  became  the  father  of  the  realistic  novel  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  by  a  natural  development  of 
his  journalistic  faculty. 

At  the  time  of  the  publication  of  JRobinson  Cru- 
$oe  Defoe  was  in  prosperous  circumstances,  but  dur- 

ing   his    closing    years    he    was    again 

i     a    •      M     1*1  c 

involved    in    ditnculties,    the    cause    or 

which  is  uncertain.  He  died  at  a  lodging  in  Moor- 
fields,  London,  in  1731.  He  was  buried  in  the 
famous  Nonconformist  cemetery  at  Bunhill  Fields, 
where  John  Bunyan  and  Isaac  Watts  lie  also,  and  his 
grave  is  now  marked  by  a  monument  erected  to  the 
author  of  Robinson  Crusoe  by  the  children  of  many 
lands. 

The  distinctive  merits  and  shortcomings  of  Defoe 
as  a  novelist  lie  on  the  surface.     By  common  agree- 
ment he  is  one  of  the  greatest  realists  of 
fiction.     Lamb  declared  that  his  fictions        novelist 
possessed   a   "  naturalness   beyond    that 
of  any  other  novelist  or  romance-  writer  ";  Mr.  Leslie 
Stephen,   putting  the  same   thought  a  little  d-iffer- 
ently,  says  that  Defoe  "  had  the  most  amazing  talent 


*  Life,  in  English  Men  of  Letters  Series,  p.  134.  In  this 
chapter  the  view  of  the  origin  of  Defoe's  novel-writing,  here 
briefly  given,  is  more  fully  and  very  admirably  set  forth. 


222       INTBODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATUEE 

on  record  for  telling  lies."  *  The  characteristic  air  of 
truth  which  pervades  his  stories  is  due  partly  to  cer- 
tain literary  tricks  which  Defoe  was  fond  of  employ- 
ing ;  partly  to  the  skill  and  patience  with  which  he 
describes  the  smallest  incidents  or  the  most  appar- 
ently trivial  details  of  a  situation  ;  partly  to  the  almost 
prosaic  plainness  and  matter-of-factness  of  his  style. 
In  telling  a  story  he  dwells  with  scrupulous  accuracy 
on  the  outward  facts,  while  the  inner  and  unseen  ex- 
periences of  the  spirit,  the  subtler,  or  higher  emotions, 
are  comparatively  disregarded.  In  truth,  while 
Defoe  has  an  extraordinary  invention,  his  imagina- 
tion is  wonderful  in  its  grasp  of  material  and  circum- 
stantial details,  but  comparatively  weak  in  its  hold 
on  the  spiritual  ;  there  it  is  bound  by  the  common- 
sense  and  earthly  habit  of  the  time.  Yet  it  is  this 
very  limitation  of  Defoe's  which  helps  to  give  to  his 
work  that  tone  of  veracity  which  is  his  leading  trait. 
He  himself  represented  a  middle-class,  average  man's 
way  of  looking  at  matters,  and  he  represents  life  as 
it  appears  to  the  close,  but  by  no  means  over-sensitive 
or  penetrative  observer.  As  Defoe  stands  for  a  vast 
majority  of  his  countrymen,  when  he  really  identifies 
himself  with  one  of  his  characters,  as  he  does  to  a 
great  degree  with  Robinson  Crusoe,  he  necessarily 
produces  a  real  and  highly  typical  personage.  The 
French  novelist,  M.  Alphonse  Daudet,  was  impressed 
with  the  extremely  English  tone  of  Defoe's  best- 
known  hero.  "  Even  Shakespeare,"  he  wrote,  "  does 
not  give  us  as  perfect  an  idea  of  the  English  character 
as  Defoe.  Robinson  is  the  typical  Englishman  par 
*  Article  on  Defoe  in  Hours  in  a  Library. 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  223 

excellence,  with  his  adventuresomeness,  his  taste  for 
travel,  his  love  of  the  sea,  his  piety,  his  commercial 
and  practical  instincts."  And  as  Defoe  put  some- 
thing of  himself,  and  of  that  great  trad-  "  journai0f 
ing,  middle-class  England,  to  which  he  the  Plague 
belonged,  into  the  "  Mariner  of  York,"  he  Year-" 
put  something  of  himself  into  the  London  tradesman 
who  is  made  to  tell  the  story  of  the  Great  Plague  of 
1665.  The  Journal  of  the  Plague  Year  is  supposed 
to  be  written  by  a  saddler  who  lived  "  without  Aid- 
gate,"  and  who  remained  in  the  city  throughout  the 
pestilence.  As  he  is  both  tradesman  and  Dissenter, 
the  reflections  and  comments  that  Defoe  himself 
would  naturally  have  made  in  the  same  situation,  can 
be  appropriately  attributed  to  a  fictitious  narrator 
whose  point  of  view  is  so  similar.  The  ghastly 
Journal  is  a  work  of  consummate  art.  The  tragic 
story  is  told  with  a  sober  and  businesslike  exactness. 
We  have  the  tabulated  statistics  of  the  deaths  in  the 
several  parishes  ;  the  literal  text  of  a  long  "  Order  of 
the  Mayor  and  Aldermen — concerning  the  infection," 
and  the  cold,  official  records  help  to  give  to  the  whole 
narrative  a  truly  awful  air  of  reality.  As  the  story 
progresses,  we  actually  live  through  the  horrors  of 
the  pestilence  ;  insensibly  we  grow  familiar  with  the 
stiffling,  almost  deserted  streets ;  with  the  closed 
houses,  marked  with  the  red  cross  to  show  that  the 
plague  is  there  ;  with  the  great  ditches,  into  which 
the  dead  are  dumped  at  night  by  the  light  of  torches. 
We  note  the  despair  that  settles  on  the  inhabitants, 
as  on  dwellers  in  a  city  given  over  to  its  doom. 
Against  this  somber  background,  particular  incidents 


224       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

stand  out  in  dramatic  power  and  distinctness  ;  the 
shrieking  woman  in  Token  House  Yard,  dashing  open 
her  casement  and  crying,  "  Oh,  death,  death,  death, 
death  ! "  in  u  most  inimitable  tone  ;  the  ownerless 
purse,  that  passers-by  are  afraid  to  touch  ;  the 
frenzied  man,  who  jumps  from  his  bed  and  rushes 
through  the  streets  to  plunge  into  the  Thames.  The 
masterly  restraint,  the  slowly  accumulating  weight 
of  horror,  make  this  painful  record  a  masterpiece  of 
realistic  art. 

In  the  construction  of  their  plots,  Defoe's  stories 
are,  as  a  rule,  admittedly  weak,  but  in  the  truth  and 
power  of  single  scenes  he  has  seldom  been  surpassed. 
Profoundly  interesting  as  a  man,  as  a  writer  he  holds 
a  great  place  in  the  rise  of  English  journalism,  and 
is,  above  all,  one  of  the  great  founders  of  our  modern 
novel. 

STUDY  LIST 
DANIEL  DEFOE 

1.  Robinson  Crusoe.  Journal  of  the  Plague  Tear:  Edited  with 
Notes  and  an  Introduction,  by  Geo.  R.  Carpenter  (Longmans' 
English  Classics).  This  admirable  edition  includes  a  biography 
of  Defoe  and  some  valuable  suggestions  for  teachers  and 
students.  An  edition  of  the  last-named  book  has  been 
recently  published  by  Gmn  &  Co.,  edited  with  introduction 
and  notes  bv  B.  S.  Hurlbut,  and  one  by  the  American  Book  Com- 
pany (Eclectic  English  Classics).  The  Earlier  Life  and  Chief 
Earlier  Works  of  Daniel  Defoe,  edited  by  Henry  Morley  (Caris- 
brooke  Library,  1889)  contains,  besides  biography,  "  The  Essay 
on  Projects,"  "  The  True-Born  Englishman,"  "  The  Short- 
est Way  With  Dissenters,"  "Hymn  to  the  Pillory,"  "The 
Consolirlator."  and  "The  Apparition  of  Mrs.  Veal."  Mr. 


THE  ENGLAND  OP  THE  RESTORATION  225 

George  Saintsbury's  Selections  from  Defoe's  Minor  Novels 
(Macmillan,  1892)  will  be  found  most  helpful.  It  contains, 
after  a  brief  introduction,  well-chosen  selections  from  Cap- 
tain Singleton,  Moll  Flanders,  Memoirs  of  a  Cavalier,  Colonel 
Jack,  and  Boxana.  (The  account  of  the  London  street-waif's 
training  in  theft  in  Colonel  Jack  suggests  comparison  with 
Dickens'  Oliver  Twist.  It  deserves  careful  study.)  A  very 
attractive  edition  of  Defoe's  complete  works  has  been  pub- 
lished by  J.  M.  Dent  &  Co.  (Macmillan  &  Co.)  in  16  vols.  :  * 
2.  BIOGRAPHY  AXD  CRITICISM.  The  most  complete  life  of 
Defoe  is  that  by  William  Lee,  1869.  (This  includes  a  list  of 
Defoe's  works,  254  in  number,  64  of  which  were  added  by  Mr. 
Lee,  while  others  were  excluded.)  Life  and  Times  of  Daniel 
Defoe  by  William  Chadwick  (1859).  For  shorter  biographies, 
v.  John  Foster's  Historical  and  Biographical  Essays  (1858)  and 
life  of  Defoe  by  Professor  Wm.  Minto,  English  Men  of  Letters 
Series;  v.  also  the  essays  on  "Defoe's  Novels,"  in  Leslie 
Stephen's  Hours  in  a  Library,  First  Series,  and  in  Mrs. 
Margaret  Oliphant's  (Wilson's)  Historical  Characters  of  the 
Reign  of  Queen  Anne.  Accounts  of  Defoe  and  of  his  place  in 
the  history  of  English  fiction  will  be  found  in  many  of  the 
works  on  the  novel  given  in  the  Study  List  on  p.  214. 


JONATHAN    SWIFT. — 1667-1745 

Jonathan  Swift,  the  greatest  of  English  satirists, 
is  the  most  powerful,  most  inscrutable,  and  most 
tragic  figure  in  the  literary  history  of  his  century. 
Born  in  Dublin  in  1667,  Swift,  like  Goldsmith,  was 
of  English  descent  ;  but  the  harshness  and  malignity 
of  his  disposition  are  in  singular  contrast  to  Gold- 
smith's buoyant  and  irrepressible  gayety.  Difficulties 
less  formidable  than  those  through  which  Goldsmith's 
sweeter  and  healthier  nature  passed  unharmed  pro- 
voked Swift's  bitter  resentment.  He  chafed  at 


228       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

poverty  and  rebelled  against  college  discipline  : 
dependence  on  what  he  considered  his  uncle's  grudg- 
ing charity  galled  him.  His  deep-seated  melancholy 
and  misanthropy  grew  under  the  successive  trials 
and  disappointments  of  his  career  ;  they  were  con- 
nected, moreover,  with  a  constitutional  malady  which 
showed  itself  in  fits  of  giddiness,  deafness,  and 
mental  depression.  Obliged  to  take  refuge  in  Eng- 
land by  the  Irish  disturbances  which  accompanied 
the  Revolution  of  1688,  Swift  became  secretary  to 
Sir  William  Temple,  a  retired  statesman  of  literary 
tastes.  Young,  brilliant,  ambitious,  and  fond  of 
power,  Swift's  natural  bent  appears  to  have  been 
toward  politics,  but  he  decided  to  enter  the  Church, 
and  was  ordained  in  1695.  For  a  man  of  Swift's 
temperament  and  ambitions,  this  seems  to  have  been 
a  miserable  error.  While,  in  after  years,  Swift  per- 
formed the  public  duties  of  his  office  with  scrupulous 
fidelity,  his  hopes  were  centered  on  political  prefer- 
ment, and  it  is  a  mockery  to  think  of  a  man  of  his 
gloomy  and  malignant  temperament  as  a  messenger 
of  peace  and  a  healer  of  souls.  The  incongruity  of 
his  position  seems  to  have  impressed  Swift  himself, 
*or  he  wrote  bitterly  : 

"A  genius  in  a  reverend  gown 
Will  always  keep  its  owner  down  ; 
'Tis  an  unnatural  conjunction 
And  spoils  the  credit  of  the  function." 

Swift  was  nearly  thirty  before  he  gave  proof  of 
his  unrivaled  satiric  powers.  He  had  written  and 
burned  much  when,  in  1696  and  1697,  he  wrote  two 


JONATHAN     SWI FT 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  227 

prose  works,  which  suddenly  revealed  to  the  full  the 
vigor,  the  ingenuity,  the  ease,  and  robustness  of  the 
great  satirist.  These  works,  which  were  not  pub- 
lished until  1704,  are  The  Tale  of  a  Tub 

and  The  Battle  of  the  Books.     The  Tale   "*hevT,al60f 
*  a  Tub." 

of  a  Tub  was  professedly  intended  to 
divert  the  attacks  of  those  who  play  "  with  schemes 
of  religion  and  government."  Swift  declares  that  he 
threw  his  book  out  to  them  as  seamen  throw  an 
empty  tub  to  a  whale  to  prevent  him  "from  laying 
violent  hands  upon  the  ship."  The  book  deals  alle- 
gorically  with  the  religious  differences  and  dissen- 
sions of  the  time,  and  impliedly  urges  the  Church  of 
England  to  take  a  middle  course  between  what 
Swift  considered  the  superstitions  of  Roman  Catholi- 
cism and  the  fanaticism  of  the  nonconformists.  Its 
deeper  purpose  and  spirit  have  been  variously  under- 
stood. Churchmen  of  that  day  were  so  shocked  at 
its  tone  that  it  became  a  hindrance  to  Swift's  eccle- 
siastical advancement.  On  the  other  hand,  a  recent 
critic  declares  that  the  charges  of  profanity  and 
irreverence  which  it  has  provoked  are  "  natural  but 
groundless."  *  Whatever  view  we  adopt,  we  shall 
probably  agree  that  its  moving  spirit  is  a  furious 
and  destructive  hatred  of  whatever  in  Swift's  eyes 
seemed  cant  and  hypocrisy,  and  that  back  of  the 
whole  book  is  the  joy  of  a  great  satirist  in  the  free 
play  of  his  terrible  powers,  a  joy  like  the  battle  rage 
of  the  Berserker.  The  Tale  of  a  Tub  is  disgusting  in 
places;  it  handles  holy  things  with  a  coarse  familiarity 

•Richard  Garnett's  article  on   "Swift"  in    Eneyclopadia 
Britannica,  ninth  edition. 


228       INTRODUCTION  TO   ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

in  keeping  with  the  materialistic  and  skeptical  »mrit 

of  the  time,  but  its  spontaneous  wit,  its  force  and 

brilliancy,  place    it  in   the   front   rank   of   Englisn 

satires.     In    The   Battle   of   the    Hooks 

The  Battle     Swift  entered  as  a  humorist  into  a  current 
of  the  Books."      . 

discussion  on  the  comparative  merits  of 

ancient  and  modern  literature.  This  dispute,  which 
began  in  France,  was  started  in  England  by  a  publi- 
cation of  Sir  William  Temple's,  in  which  the  supe- 
riority of  the  classic  literature  was  upheld.  In  his 
essay  Temple  extravagantly  praised  an  obscure 
classic  (The  Epistles  of  Phalaris),  assuming  it  to  be 
genuine.  This  assumption  was  conclusively  dis- 
proved by  Richard  Bentley,  one  of  the  greatest 
scholars  of  the  time.  Swift  then  came  to  the  aid  of 
his  patron  Temple  (who  was  thus  placed  in  an 
embarrassing  position)  in  The  Battle  of  the  Books. 
Circumstances  having  forced  Swift  to  take  the  wrong 
side  in  the  controversy,  so  far  as  the  Epistles  were 
concerned,  he  avoided  argument  and  adopted  a  tone 
of  mock  solemnity,  calculated  to  make  the  whole 
dispute  appear  ridiculous  and  pedantic.  In  form, 
the  squib,  if  we  may  venture  so  to  call  it,  is  a  kind 
of  miniature  prose  epic,  but  written  in  travesty  of 
the  epic  manner.  Beginning  with  the  rise  of  the 
dispute  between  the  ancients  and  the  moderns,  it 
culminates  in  a  Homeric  battle  between  the  cham- 
pions of  the  rival  literatures,  in  which  Bentley  and 
Wotton,  the  leaders  of  the  moderns,  are  transfixed 
by  the  same  spear,  as  a  "skillful  cook"  trusses  "a 
brace  of  woodcocks  with  iron  skewer."  The  Battle 
of  the  Books  sneers  at  the  shams  of  pedantry  ;  The 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  229 

Rape  of  the  Lock  at  the  shams  of  fashion.  Both 
are  travesties  of  the  heroic  ;  both  products  of  an  age 
of  satire. 

After  the  death  of  Temple  (1699),  Swift  was  given 
a  parish   at  Laracor,  a  small  village  about  twenty 

miles   from    Dublin.     His    income    was 

n      i  •  *•  j       r        Laracor. 

small,     liis    congregation    composed    of 

some  "half  a  score."  Neither  his  temperament  nor 
his  abilities  inclined  him  to  settle  down  at  thirty  into 
the  humble  routine  of  a  country  parish.  He  came 
often  to  London,  remaining  there  sometimes  for  years 
together  ;  he  met  Addison  and  the  other  great  wits,, 
wrote  pamphlets  and  essays,  and  was  drawn  into  the 
whirlpool  of  party  politics.  Taken  into  favor  by  the 
Tory  leaders  Harley  and  Bolingbroke,  who  came  into 
power  in  1710,  Swift  commanded  for  three  years  a 
consideration  and  influence  which  testify  to  his  politi- 
cal ability,  or,  at  the  least,  to  his  imperious  power 
over  men.  Dr.  Johnson  said  of  him  that  "  he  pre- 
dominated over  his  companions  with  a  very  high 
ascendency,  and  probably  would  bear  none  over  whom 
he  could  not  predominate."*  These  years  of  his 
triumphs,  when  he  carried  his  head  high  among  the 
highest,  are  also  the  years  in  which  the  gentler  and 
more  plaj'ful  side  of  his  nature  is  revealed  in  his 
Journal  to  Stella.  This  is  made  up  of  letters  in  the 
form  of  a  journal,  written  to  his  pupil  Hester  John- 
son ("Stella"),  whom  he  had  met  as  a  child  in  the 
household  of  Sir  William  Temple.  Scribbled  hastily, 
with  no  thought  beyond  the  desire  to  give  pleasure 
to  "  Stella,"  and  the  little  group  of  friends  in  Ireland, 
*  Johnson's  Lives  of  the  Poets  ;  "  Swift. " 


230       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  letters  move  us  as  no  other  writings  of  Swift  do, 
to  tenderness,  awe,  and  pity.  They  warn  us  fciiat 
even  Swift  had  "  two  soul-sides,"  *  and  remind  us 
that  where  we  cannot  understand  we  should  be  cau- 
tious how  we  judge. 

In  1713  Swift  was  rewarded  by  the  deanery  of  St. 
Patrick's,  Dublin  ;  but,  in  the   year   following,  the 
downfall  of  the   Tory  Government  was 

followed  b7  the  deaths  of  Harley  and 
the  Queen.  Swift's  political  fortunes 
went  down  in  the  general  wreck  ;  nothing  remained 
but  what  seemed  to  him  a  life  of  weary  exile  in  hia 
deanery,  and  the  bitterness  of  disappointment  and 
disgust.  "  What  a  world  is  this,"  Bolingbroke  wrote 
to  him  after  the  crash  came,  "  and  how  does  fortune 
banter  us  !  " 

The  effect  of  this  sudden  plunge  into  comparative 
obscurity,  from  a  place  of  power  in  the  political  and 
literary  circles  of  the  capital,  can  be  readily  under- 
stood. Swift  wrote  with  morbid  sadness  that  there 
his  life  was  "  no  soul's  concern,"  and  that  those 
about  him  would  follow  his  hearse  "  without  a  tear."f 
"  The  best  and  greatest  part  of  my  life,"  he  declared, 
"  I  spent  in  England  ;  there  I  made  my  friendships 
and  there  I  left  my  desires."  J  It  was  during  those 
years  of  loneliness,  bitter  with  brooding  over  disap- 
pointed hopes,  that  Swift  wrote  Gulliver's  Travels, 

*  F.  Browning's  "  One  Word  More." 

f  Verses  "  In  Sickness  "  (1714),  Sheridan's  edition  of  Swift, 
rol.  vii.  p.  142. 

\  Swift's  Letter*  and  Journal*,  edited  by  Stanley  Lane- 
Poole.  p.  191. 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  231 

(published  1726).  Swift  says  in  one  of  his  letters 
that  its  chief  purpose  was  to  show  his  hatred  of 
that  detestable  animal  man  ;  certainly  he 
poured  into  it  that  sceva  indignatio,  that 
fierce  wrath  at  life  and  his  brother-men, 
which  had  tormented  him  in  his  hours  of  darkness. 
But  savage  and  terrible  as  the  book  is,  it  is  more  than 
a  political  satire,  more  even  than  an  indictment  of 
mankind;  it  is,  at  least  in  the  earlier  books,  a  fascinat- 
ing story  ;  wonderful  in  the  originality  and  ingenuity 
of  its  conceptions  and  in  the  surprising  naturalness 
which  the  skill  of  a  great  artist  has  given  to  the 
whole.  The  most  pitiless  of  satires,  it  has  also  been 
well  called  "  (omitting  certain  passages)  almost  the 
most  delightful  children's  book  ever  written."*  It 
helps  us  to  understand  this  double  nature  of  the 
book  if  we  recall  the  less  familiar  and  more  human 
side  of  Swift  himself.  The  charm  of  Gulliver's 
Travels,  the  whimsical  adventures,  the  little  nurse 
Glumdalclitch  only  forty  feet  high,  for  whom  we 
have  a  positive  affection,  seem  closely  associated  with 
that  playfulness  which  appears  in  the  Journal  to 
Stella,  or,  perhaps,  even  more  nearly,  with  that 
delight  Swift  took  in  riddles,  puzzles,  and  ingenious 
trifling,  as  a  distraction  from  the  melancholy  which 
oppressed  him.  Gulliver's  adventures  among  the 
pygmies  and  giants  are,  from  one  aspect,  a  mathe- 
matical puzzle,  worked  out  with  infinite  pains  and  an 
almost  mathematical  exactness.  Of  course  the  book 
is  far  more  than  ingenious  ;  it  is  a  masterpiece  of  nar- 
rative. We  see  in  it  another  step  in  the  advance  of 
*  Leslie  Stephen's  S>nft  ;  English  Men  of  Letters  Seriea. 


232       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

eighteenth-century  fiction  ;  we  feel  that  these  strange 
adventures  of  Lemuel  Gulliver,  ship's  surgeon,  have 
that  air  of  careful  veracity  which  places  them  with 
the  adventures  of  Robinson  Crusoe,  Mariner  of  York. 
But  while,  in  Defoe's  romance,  we  detect  the  didactic 
note  of  the  Dissenter,  in  Swift's  we  hear  the  fallen 
politician  railing  at  the  pettiness  of  stateci'aft  and  at 
all  the  vaunted  glory  of  man.  Back  of  the  satire  on 
contemporary  English  politics,  there  rises  a  far  darker 
and  profounder  discontent;  we  hear  the  cry  of  a 
strong  but  morbid  and  distorted  nature,  hemmed  in 
by  a  corrupt,  shallow,  and  unbelieving  time.  As  we 
near  the  end  of  the  book,  the  hatred  of  man  grows 
more  rabid  and  more  malignant.  Man's  knowledge  is 
foolishness  ;  his  reason,  which  to  Shakespeare  seemed 
the  attribute  of  a  god,  is  held  up  to  contempt  ;  his 
instincts  are  proclaimed  brutish  and  vile.  Pope 
imagined  superior  beings  contemplating  the  dis- 
coveries of  a  Newton  with  a  patronizing  sense  of 
amusement,  like  that  with  which  we  regard  the  antics 
of  a  monkey;  the  same  spirit  is  in  Swift,  but  so  much 
the  more  furious  and  sardonic  as  his  nature  was 
stronger  and  moi'e  sincere.* 

Swift's  life  went  down  in  loneliness  and  darkness. 
Esther  Vanhomrigh,    whose   love   he   had  slighted, 
died  ;  Hester  Johnson,  who  had  called 

OUt  the  best  he  liad  tO  &ive  °f  love  and 
tenderness,   died    also,  and    one   of   the 

strangest  and  most  tragic  of  the  world's  love  stories 

was  at  an  end.      Once  he  had  written  vindictively 

that  he  was  doomed  to  die  in  obscurity  "  like  a  poi- 

*  Essay  on  Man,  Epistle  II.  11.  31-35. 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THU  RESTORATION  233 

soned  rat  in  a  hole,"  now  his  life  drifted  on  helplessly 
toward  a  pitiable  and  awful  close.  In  loneliness,  in 
failing  health,  and  in  what  inward  and  unspeakable 
anguish  we  can  only  conjecture,  the  shadows  of  insan- 
ity closed  in  on  Swift's  clear  and  splendid  intellect, 
and  he  sank  into  a  mindless  apathy  from  which  he 
seldom  roused.  He  died  in  1745.  "An  immense 
genius,"  writes  Thackeray  ;  "  an  awful  downfall  and 
ruin.  So  great  a  man  he  seems  to  me  that  thinking 
of  him  is  like  thinking  of  an  empire  falling."  * 

STUDY  LIST 
SWIFT 

1.  Morley's  Minor  Writings  of  Swift  (Carisbrooke  Liurary) 
contains  "The  Tale  of  a  Tub,"  "The  Battle  of  the  Books," 
part  of  the  "  Journal  to  Stella,"  selected  poems,  etc.     Among 
these  poems  at  least  the  "  Cadeuus  and  Vanessa  "  and  the 
"Imitation"  of  Horace,  Satire  VI.   bk  ii.,  should  be  care- 
fully read.     Other  useful  collections  of  the  selected  writings 
are  Stanley  Lane-Poole's  Selections  from  the  Prose  Writings  of 
Jonathan  Swift ;  Letters  and  Journals  of  Jonathan  Swift,  by 
the  same  editor  ;  and  Swift,  Selections  f ram  His  Works,  Edited, 
with  Life,  Introduction,  and  Notes,  by  Henry  Craik,  2  vols. 
The  standard  edition  of  complete  works  is  that  of  Sir  Walter 
Scott,   1814,   with  biography.     There  are  numerous  expur- 
gated editions  of  Gulliver's  Travels.     An  edition  for  schools  is 
published  by  Ginn  &  Co.,  and  a  selection,  "  Gulliver's  Voyage 
to    Lilliput,   with   .    .    .    critical    opinions   .    .    .    notes,   and 
review  questions,"  is  published  by  Maynard,  Merrill  &  Co. 
(English  Classic  Series). 

2.  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.      The    Life    of  Jonathan 
Swift,  by  Henry  Craik  (Murray,  1882).  is  the  standard  biog- 

*  English  Humorists :  "  Swift." 


234       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

raphy.  For  briefer  treatment,  see  Leslie  Stephen's  Swift,  in 
the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series,  a  brilliant  and  admirable 
piece  of  work.  Earlier  lives  are  those  by  Dr.  Johnson,  in  the 
Lives  of  the  Poets  ;  Sir  Walter  Scott's,  and  John  Foster's — the 
last  named  coming  down  only  to  1711.  Thackeray's  lecture 
on  Swift  in  The  English  Humorists  is  indispensable,  although 
we  should  be  cautious  about  committing  ourselves  entirely  to 
his  view.  Some  of  his  conclusions  in  regard  to  Stella  are 
dissented  from  in  an  essay  by  Mrs.  Oliphant  (Wilson) ;  His- 
torical Characters  in  the  Reign  of  Quten  Anne.  See  also  W. 
E.  H.  Lecky's  Leaders  of  Public  Opinion  in  Ireland;  Mas- 
son's  Three  Devils,  and  Other  Essays ;  and  Masson's  British 
Novelists  (lect.  ii.). 


THE   ENGLAND   OF  THE   RESTORATION  235 


ALEXANDER    POPE. 1688-1744 

Alexander  Pope  is  the  lawful  successor  to  Dry  den 
in  the  line  of  representative  English  poets.  About 
this  extraordinary  personage  centers  the  literary  and 
social  activity  of  the  Augustan  Age,  with  its  thin 
veneer  of  elegance  and  fashion,  and  its  inherent 
coarseness  and  brutality  ;  with  its  spiteful  literary 
rivalries,  its  stratagems,  its  rancor,  and  its  unmeasured 
slanders.  The  sturdy  Dryden,  robust  enough  to 
shoulder  his  way  to  the  front  by  sheer  force,  had 
gone,  and  this  fragile,  deformed,  and  acutely  nervous 
invalid  reigned  in  his  stead.  The  story  of  Pope's 
life  is  a  painful  one.  He  was  weak  and  sickly  from 
his  infancy, and  his  life  was  "a  long  disease."  He  is 
said  to  have  had  a  naturally  sweet  and  gentle  dis- 
position, but  he  grew  up  to  be  petulant  and  embit- 
tered. His  father,  a  rich  and  retired  merchant,  was 
a  Roman  Catholic,  and  the  prejudice  against  persons 
of  that  faith  was  so  strong  at  this  time  that  Pope  was 
prevented  from  attending  the  public  schools.  His 
education  was  consequently  superficial  and  irregular- 
He  had  some  instruction  from  a  Roman  Catholic 
priest,  and  afterward  went  to  several  small  schools, 
remaining  a  short  time  at  each  and  learning  but  little. 
At  one  of  these,  the  Roman  Catholic  seminary  at  Twy- 
ford,  he  began  his  career  as  a  satirist  by  writing  a  lam- 
poon on  the  master.  When  Pope  was  about  twelve 
years  old  he  was  taken  from  school  to  live  witli  his 
father  at  Binfield,  a  straggling  village  in  "Windsor 
Forest.  Here  he  read  much  poetry,  but  in  a  rambling 
and  desultory  fashion.  He  also  wrote  many  verses 


236        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

imitating  the  style  of  one  or  another  of  his  favorite 
poets.  He  made  metrical  translations  of  the  classics, 
and  when  between  thirteen  and  fifteen  years  of  age 
composed  an  epic  poem  of  four  thousand  lines.  By 
this  early  and  incessant  practice,  Pope  was  acquiring 
that  easy  mastery  of  smooth  and  fluent  versification 
which  is  characteristic  of  his  mature  work.  His  first 
published  poem,  The  Pastorals  (1709),  represents 
shepherds  and  shepherdesses  in  an  im- 
torals "  M  aginary  Golden  Age,  conversing  in  flow- 
ing couplets,  and  with  wit  and  refinement. 
Even  in  that  polite  and  artificial  time,  the  unnatural- 
ness  of  this  did  not  pass  unnoticed,  and  a  writer  in  The 
Guardian  held  that  the  true  pastoral  should  give  a 
genuine  picture  of  English  country  life. 

Pope's  next  publication,  the  Essay  on  Criticism 
(published  1711),  took  London  by  storm.  It  is  a 
didactic  poem  in  which  the  established  rules  of  com- 
position are  restated  by  Pope  in  terse,  neat,  and  often 
clever,  couplets.  Poetry  of  this  order  was  especially 
in  accord  with  the  reigning  literary  fashions,  and 
in  the  Essay  Pope  was  but  following  the  lead  of 
Boileau  and  of  Dryden.  Originality  was  neither 
possible  nor  desirable  in  a  work  which  undertook  to 
express  the  settled  principles  of  criticism,  yet  the 
poem  possesses  a  merit  eminently  characteristic  of 
Pope — it  is  quotable.  All  through  it  we  find  couplets 
in  which  an  idea,  often  commonplace  enough,  is 
packed  into  so  terse,  striking,  and  remarkable  a  form 
that  it  has  become  firmly  imbedded  in  our  ordinary 
thought  and  speech.  Through  his  power  to  translate 
a  current  thought  into  an  almost  proverbial  form, 


ALEXANDER     POPt 


THE  E.NGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  237 

Pope  has  probably  enriched  the  language  with  more 
phrases  than  any  writer  save  Shakespeare. 

"  A  little  learning  is  a  dangerous  thing  ; 
Driak  deep,  or  taste  not  the  Pierian  spring. 

"  To  err  is  human,  to  forgive  divine. 

"  For  fools  rush  in  where  angels  fear  to  tread."* 

Suoh  quotable  bits  as  these  are  used  by  thousands 
who  are  entirely  ignorant  of  their  source. 

Pope  gave  a  brilliant  proof  of  the  versatility  of  his 
powers  by  The  Rape  of  the  Lock  (1712),  the  religious 
poem  of  The  Messiah,  and  Windsor  Forest. 

The  first  of  these,  The  Rape  of  the  Lock,  is  the 
most  perfect  poem  of  its  kind  in  the  literature.  It 
owes  its  existence  to  a  trifling  incident,  the  theft  of 
a  lock  of  Mistress  Arabella  Fermor's  hair,  by  Lord 
Petre,  a  gay  young  nobleman.  The  families  of  these 
two  young  people  of  fashion,  as  Pope  puts  it,  "  took 
the  matter  too  seriously,"  f  and  an  estrangement  was 
the  consequence.  It  was  suggested  to  Pope  by  a 
friend  that  he  should  write  a  poena  that  should  turn 
the  whole  thing  into  a  jest,  and  restore  the  offended 
parties  to  good  humor.  The  airy  and  glittering 
structure  raised  by  Pope  on  this  slight  foundation  is 
probably  his  most  perfect  work.  The  second  edition 
appeared  in  1714,  with  a  dedication  to  Mistress 
Fermor,  whose  poetical  counterpart  we  find  in 
Belinda,  the  heroine  of  the  poem. 

*  All    these    quotations    will    be  found    in  the  Ettay  on 
Criticism. 
f  Spence's  Anecdotes. 


238        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

In  it  Pope  constitutes  himself  the  poet  laureate  of 
the  trivial  ;  making  the  graceful  nothings  of  fashion- 
able society  seem  yet  more  trifling  by 
affecting  to  treat  them  with  the  high 
seriousness  of  the  heroic.  With  mock  solemnity  we 
follow  the  fortunes  of  Belinda  through  her  little 
round  of  idleness  and  pleasure.  We  see  her  luxuri- 
ously slumbering  on  till  noon,  when  her  lapdog, 
Shock,  awakens  her.  We  are  present  at  the  toilet, 
and  watch  the  progress  of  "  the  sacred  rites  of 
pride."  And  through  the  day,  with  its  pleasure 
party  up  the  Thames,  its  cards,  its  tea-drinking,  and 
its  tragic  catastrophe  of  the  severed  curl,  the  mighty 
import  of  each  incident  is  heightened  by  the  unseen 
presence  of  supernatural  beings,  sylphs,  who  assist 
unknown  at  the  parting  of  her  hair,  "  preserve  the 
powder  "  of  her  cheeks  "  from  too  rude  a  gale,"  or 
geek  to  guard  from  threatened  dangers  her  lapdog  or 
her  locks.  It  has  been  said  that  Pope  had  a  moral 
purpose  in  this  solemn  mockery  ;  that  it  is  "  a  con- 
tinuous satire  on  a  tinsel  existence  ";  and  that  the 
central  motive  of  the  whole  is  to  be  found  in  the 
speech  of  Clarissa  with  its  concluding  couplet : 

"  Beauties  in  vain  their  pretty  eyes  may  roll  I 
Charms  strike  the  sight,  but  merit  wins  the  soul." 

It  is  more  likely  that  the  upholders  of  such  a  view 
have  fallen  into  the  error  of  the  respective  families 
of  Lord  Petre  and  Mistress  Fermor,  and  "  taken  the 
matter  too  seriously."  In  The  Dunciad  Pope  had 
a  genuine  personal  grievance,  and  the  darts  of  his 
satire  are  driven  home  and  tipped  with  venom.  But 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  239 

in  The  Rape  of  the  Lock  there  is  neither  personal 
wrath  nor  the  slightest  undercurrent  of  a  moral  in- 
dignation. The  satire  is  playful,  and  the  strokes  as 
harmless  as  those  in  the  contest  of  the  lords  and 
ladies,  where  the  weapons  are  fans,  lightning  glances, 
and  a  pinch  of  snuff. 

When  we  yield  ourselves  fully  to  the  graceful 
charm  of  the  poem,  we  feel  that  the  intrusion  of 
a  serious  moral  purpose  would  overweight  its  airy 
and  irresponsible  levity.  But  apart  from  artistic 
considerations,  it  is  not  likely  that  Pope  himself 
regarded  the  matter  from  the  point  of  view  of  a 
social  reformer.  He  is  amused  at  the  brilliant  follies 
he  describes  ;  he  treats  them  with  the  flippancy  and 
cleverness  of  the  man  of  the  world  ;  but  he  has 
neither  the  depth  of  feeling,  nor  the  belief  in  the 
latent  capacity  of  the  men  and  women  he  satirizes, 
to  really  long  to  make  them  better.  For  women  he 
exhibits  a  playful  and  invincible  contempt.  They 
are  inherently,  and,  so  far  as  appears,  hopelessly  vain 
and  frivolous  ;  their  hearts  are  "moving  toy  shops"; 
their  interests  flirting,  dressing,  and  shopping.  How- 
ever we  may  delight  in  the  wit,  sparkle,  and  fancy  of 
The  Rape  of  the  Lock — and  we  can  hardly  admire 
them  too  much — we  should  realize  that  not  only  is 
the  poem  so  nicely  balanced  that  its  pretended  seri- 
ousness never  slips  into  real  earnestness,  but  that  if 
we  insist  on  taking  it  seriously,  its  implied  moral  is 
an  exceedingly  bad  one.  For  it  is  not  only  ihe  vain 
and  trifling  that  are  satirized.  The  poem  is  largely 
a  burlesque  of  noble  and  beautiful  ideals,  and  its  wit 
chiefly  consists  in  placing  the  sacred  or  the  admirable 


240        IHTBODUCnON  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

on  a  seeming  equality  with  the  trifling  or  the  absurd. 
In  this  travesty  of  the  sublime,  the  wrath  of  Achilles 
is  replaced  by  the  petulant  vexation  of  Belinda.  The 
world  is  reversed,  and  the  unimportant  is  the  only 
thing  worthy  of  our  concern.  We  are  amused  be- 
cause all  ordinary  standards  are  changed,  and  we 
hear  in  the  same  breath  of  the  state  counsels  and  the 
tea-drinking  of  a  Queen,  of  the  deaths  of  husbands 
and  of  lapdogs,  of  the  neglect  of  prayers,  and  the 
loss  of  a  masquerade.  In  Gulliver's  Travels  we  are 
entertained  by  the  upsetting  of  our  conceptions  cf 
physical  relations,  we  see  man  become  a  pygmy 
among  giants,  a  giant  among  pygmies  ;  in  The  Rape 
of  the  Lock  we  are  entertained  by  a  similar  reversal 
of  our  moral  and  spiritual  ideas,  and  in  its  tolerant 
cynicism  the  petty  becomes  great,  the  great  petty. 

From  the  moral  aspect  such  wit,  however  enter- 
taining, is  not  without  its  element  of  danger.  It  is  a 
fact  full  of  significance,  when  we  stand  back  and 
look  at  the  large  movements  in  the  history  of  Eng- 
lish literature,  that  the  most  perfect  and  original 
poem  which  early  eighteenth  century  England  pro- 
duced was  the  mockery  of  the  heroic  ;  that  in  it  the 
very  froth  of  life  should  sparkle,  crystallized  forever 
into  a  fairy  fretwork  of  exquisite  tracery.  Before 
this  was  Shakespeare's  passion  ;  before  this,  too,  the 
sightless  eyes  of  Milton  were  raised  to  heaven,  behold- 
ing the  invisible.  Yet  it  is  a  great  thing  that  the 
race  which  gave  life  to  Hamlet  and  to  Paradise  Lost 
should  have  been  capable  of  creating  also  The  Rape 
of  the  Lock. 

In  Windsor  Forest  the  woodland  about  Binfield  is 


THE  ENGLAND   OF  THE  RESTORATION  £41 

withdrawn  from  all  danger  of  recognition,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  peculiar  taste  of  the  time. 
Pan,   Pomona,   Flora,   and    Ceres,   and   j-orest  »°r 
other  classic  deities  are  domesticated  in 
an  English   landscape,  and    Queen   Anne   compared 
with  Diana.     Vulgar  realities  are  carefully  avoided, 
as  when  the  hunter,  instead  of  taking  aim,  is  made  to 

"  Lift  the  tube  and  level  with  his  eye."  * 

The  poem  shows  great  ease  and  elegance,  but  what 
we  admire  in  it  is  the  artist's  self-conscious  and 
obtrusive  skill.  So  elaborate  is  Pope's  art  here  and 
elsewhere,  that  we  are  less  occupied  with  what  he 
says  than  with  his  practiced  dexterity  in  saying  it. 
Soon  after  the  publication  of  this  poem,  Pope  plunged 
into  the  midst  of  the  fashionable  society  of  the  day. 
He  frequented  the  theaters  and  clubhouses,  loitered 
with  the  gay  throngs  at  Bath,  and  was  entertained  at 
the  country  places  of  the  nobility.  After  living  for 
two  years  at  Chiswick  on  the  Thames  (1716-1718), 
Pope  leased  a  villa  at  Twickenham, 
about  five  miles  farther  up  the  river,  xwickenham 
Here  he  constructed  what  he  called  his 
"  grotto  "  and  his  gardener  less  elegantly  styled  "  the 
underground  passage,"  the  walls  of  which  "  were 
finished  with  shells  interspersed  with  pieces  of  look- 
ing glass  in  angular  form."  f  He  had,  too,  a  temple 
of  shells,  and  delighted  in  ornamental  gardening. 
Here,  indeed,  was  much  of  that  "  nature  to  advan- 

*  Windsor  Forest. 

}  See  Pope's  letters  describing  the  grotto,  given  in  Car- 
ruthers'  Life  of  Pope,  vol.  i.  pp.  171-177,  Bohn's  edition. 


242        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEEATUEB 

tage  dressed  "  in  which  he  believed.  Here  he  reigned, 
a  center  of  literature  and  fashion,  entertaining 
among  the  rest  the  poet  John  Gay  (1688-1732)  and 
the  great  and  terrible  Dean  Swift  (1667-1745).  Mean- 
while he  had  worked  industriously.  His  translation 
of  the  Iliad  appeared  in  installments  between  1715- 
1720,  and  that  of  the  Odyssey  was  finished  in  1725. 
In  1728  Pope  began  a  new  stage  of  his  career  by 
The  Dunciad,  or  epic  of  dunces,  a  satire  on  the  gen- 
eral plan  of  MacFlecknoe  against  certain 

.Tk?,Dun"     writers  and  booksellers  of  the  day.     In 
•ML" 

spite   of    that    cleverness   which    Pope 

never  loses,  this  poem  is  both  pitiable  and  disgusting. 
Obscure  and  starving  authors  are  dragged  from  their 
garrets  and  their  straw  to  be  overwhelmed  with  un- 
savory abuse,*  and  while  the  poet  employs  every 
device  that  malignity  can  suggest,  we  miss  the  amaz- 
ing vigor  of  Dryden's  giant  strokes. 

Pope  wrote  other  satires,  but  the  most  famous  work 
of  his  later  years   is   the  Essay  on  Man  (1732)  a 

didactic  poem  largely  based  on  the  phi- 
on      ^phy  of  his  f  riend,  Lord  Bolingbroke. 

Its  purpose,  like  that  of  Paradise  Lost, 
is  "  to  vindicate  the  ways  of  God  to  man,"  but  the 
subject,  instead  of  being  treated  imaginatively,  is 
cast  in  a  purely  didactic  and  argumentative  mold. 
The  sneering  contempt  for  humanity,  so  frequent  in 
early  eighteenth  century  England,  runs  through  the 
poem,  and  the  attempt  is  made  to  justify  or  explain 
the  ways  of  Providence  by  the  belittling  and  rebuk- 
ing of  man.  Man  is  but  a  link  in  an  unknowable 
*  See  Thackeray's  Snglith  Hwnoriste,  p.  267. 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  243 

chain  of  being,  and  because  he  can  form  no  idea  of 
the  purpose  of  the  whole,  he  should  not  presume  to 
condemn  the  working  of  a  part. 

"The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man,"  not  be- 
cause of  man's  dignity  and  greatness,  but  because  he 
should  not  aspire  to  grasp  higher  things  or  determine 
his  true  relations  to  them.  Looking  at  "  life's  poor 
play,"  he  finds  one  "  single  comfort," 

"  Tho'  man's  a  fool,  yet  God  is  wise." 

The  philosophy  of  the  Essay  on  Man  is  shallow 
and  antiquated,  its  argument  often  defective,  yet  the 
poem  remains  a  living  part  of  the  literature  by  virtue 
of  Pope's  admirable  and  distinctive  art.  No  proof 
of  the  enduring  quality  of  this  art  could  be  more 
irrefutable  than  that  the  supreme  power  of  saying 
trite  things  aptly,  gracefully,  and  concisely,  has  suc- 
cessfully kept  the  Essay  on  Man  on  the  surface, 
while  other  didactic  poems  of  the  time  have  long 
since  sunk  under  the  weight  of  prosy  moralizing. 

About  Pope's   life  but  little   more  need  be  said. 
During  his  later  years  his  feeble  frame  was  shaken  by 
illness,  and  his  hours  embittered  by  the 
fierce    retaliation    which   The  Dunciad 
naturally  provoked.     He  died  quietly  in  his  villa  May 
30,  1744,  and  was  buried  in  the  Twickenham  church 
near  the  monument  he  had  erected  to  his  parents. 

It  is  almost  impossible  for  readers  and  critics  of 
this  generation  to  be  fair  to  Pope  either  as  a  poet  or 
as  a  man.     He  is  the  spokesman   of  a  p0peandhi* 
dead  time,  separated  from  ours  by  the  t™6- 
most  fundamental  differences   in  its  ideals   of  liter- 


244        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

ature  and  of  life.  So  absolutely  is  lie  bound 
up  with  this  time  that  we  must  try  to  enter  it  in 
imagination  if  we  would  understand  and  sympathize 
with  its  typical  poet.  The  literary  taste  of  the  age 
was  satisfied  with  correctness,  grace,  and  finish  ; 
Pope's  poetry  complied  with  these  conditions,  and  is 
smooth,  polished,  concise,  and  lucid.  Besides  this, 
Pope  has  given  one  poem  to  the  literature  as  un- 
paralleled of  its  kind  as  Paradise  Lost  or  Hamlet — 
that  airiest  creation  of  the  satiric  fancy,  The  Rape  of 
the  Lock. 

As  a  man,  our  thoughts  of  Pope  waver  between 
contempt  and  pity.  The  world  knows  him  to  have 
been  inordinately  vain,  intoxicated  by  applause,  and 
agonizingly  sensitive  to  criticism  ;  it  knows  him  to 
have  been  peevish  and  irritable  ;  capable,  when  his 
self-love  was  touched,  of  retaliating  with  a  fierceness 
of  malice  fortunately  rare  even  in  the  history  of 
genius.  He  engaged  in  some  petty  and  underhand 
plots  in  the  hope  of  increasing  his  reputation,  and 
his  love  of  intriguing  was  so  great  that,  in  the 
famous  phrase  of  Dr.  Johnson,  "he  hai'dly  drank 
tea  without  a  stratagem."  Yet,  vindictive  and  spite- 
ful as  he  seems,  Pope  loved  his  mother  with  a  touch- 
ing and  beautiful  devotion  ;  cripple  as  he  was,  he 
had  the  heart  of  a  soldier.  In  spite  of  the  physical 
drag  of  life-long  weakness  and  suffering,  he  set 
before  himself  the  high  purpose  of  excelling  in  his 
chosen  art,  and,  in  a  rough  and  brutal  time,  he  won 
and  kept  the  headship  in  English  letters.  In  extenu- 
ation of  his  faults  it  is  but  just  to  remember  that  he 
lived  in  a  generation  of  slander  and  intrigue,  when 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  245 

religious  belief  was  shaken,  and  noble  ideals  seemed 
dead.  "  The  wicked  asp  of  Twickenham,"  one  of 
his  many  enemies  called  him  ;  but  delicate,  tetchy, 
morbid,  is  it  a  wonder  that  he  should  have  used  his 
sting  ?  Thinking  of  Pope,  \re  cannot  but  pity  the 
crooked  and  puny  body  ;  shall  we  dare  to  fail  in  pity 
for  the  warped  and  crooked  soul  ? 

STUDY  LIST 
POPE 

1.  THE  RAPE  OF  THE  LOCK.    To  what  class  of  poetry  dot^ 
this  poem  belong  ?    For  account  of  incident  on  which  this 
poem  was  founded  see  article  on  Pope,  p.  237. 

Of.  opening  lines  with  those  of  the  Iliad,  Pope's  translation, 
or  Vergil,  and  note  how  Pope  has  burlesqued  the  epic. 

It  is  interesting  to  see  how  closely  the  description  of  the 
lady's  toilet  follows  "The  Fine  Lady's  Journal"  in  The  Specta- 
tor, No.  69,  May,  1711.  Other  numbers  of  The  Spectator  may 
also  be  read  to  see  how  the  life  of  the  time  has  been  satirized 
in  prose  and  poetry. 

2.  THE  ESSAY  ox  MAN.    In  this  poem  man  is  considered  in 
the  abstract  in  his  relation  to  the  universe.    "What  do  we  find 
is  Pope's  view  of  man,  and  how  does  it  compare  with  that 
taken  by  poets  in  the  latter  part  of  his  century  ?    Note  also 
the  difference  between  the  view  Pope  takes  of  life  and  man 
and  that  taken  by  Carlyle,  Browning,  or  Tennyson. 

3.  SHORT  POEMS.     "Ode    on  St.   Cecilia's    Day,"    "The 
Dying  Christian  to  His  Soul,"  "  The  Universal  Prayer." 

4.  BIOGRAPHY   AND   CRITICISM.      Stephen's    Life   of,   in 
English  Men  of  Letters  Series,  Johnson's  Life  of.  in  Lives 
of  the  Poets,  Lowell's  essay  on,  in  My  Study  Windows.     For 
Rape  of  the  Lock  see  Courthope  and  Elwin's  edition,  introduc- 
tion and  notes  to  Rape  of  the  Lock,  and  Hale's  Longer  English 
Poems.     The  Essay  on  Man,  edited  by  Mark  Pattison,  has  an 
excellent  introduction,  which,  with  the  notes,  will  be  found 


846        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

tnost  helpful  in  studying  this  poem.  Leslie  Stephen's  English 
Thought  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,  vol.  ii.,  contains  a  good 
chapter  on  the  literature  of  the  period. 

5.  HISTORY.  Lecky's  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,  vol. 
1.  ch.  4,  and  Sydney's  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century  are 
valuable  books  on  the  period.  For  state  of  England  on  acces- 
sion of  Charles  II.,  Macaulay's  History  of  England,  vol.  i. 
ch.  8. 

THE    HISTORY    OF   THE    NOVEL    (continued) 
RICHARDSON   AND    FIELDING 

While  in  the  hands  of  Defoe  and  Swift  the  novel 
had  come  to  share  in  the  realistic  spirit  of  the  time, 
it  still  remained  distinctly  the  novel  of  adventure  ; 
its  interest  resting  mainly,  although  not  entirely, 
upon  the  presentation  of  the  more  stirring  and 
exceptional  side  of  life.  Both  Defoe  and  Swift 
employed  the  autobiographical  form,  and  in  Defoe's 
work  the  supposed  narrator  was  often  beyond  the 
pale  of  respectable  society. 

Between  1740  and  1750,  a  new  form  of  fiction 
came  into  existence,  connected  with,  and  yet  dis- 

The  novel  of  t'nct  ^ rom   a^   ^at   ^ad    gone   before  ; 

domestic        this  was  the  story  of  ordinary  domestic 

Uf6i  life    and    manners.     To   the   dramatist, 

indeed,  this  world  of  every  day  was  not  unknown, 

but  in  appropriating  it  to  his  use  the  novelist  was 

virtually  gaining   a   new   world   for   his   art.     Like 

most    great   discoveries,   the    thing    seems    obvious 

enough  when  once  it  has  been  done  ;  yet  Defoe  had 

thought  it  necessary  to  drag  his  readers  into  obscure 

%nd  unsavory  places,  or  to  transport  them  to  the 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTOBATION  247 

nuds  of  the  earth,  overlooking  the  artistic  possibili- 
ties of  a  world  -which  lay  at  his  feet.  In  a  century 
and  a  half  this  new  form  of  fiction  has  grown  to 
astonishing  proportions,  until  it  has  become  one  of 
the  largest,  if  not  the  most  important  element  in  our 
mental  life.  The  cause  of  its  great  and  continued 
popularity  is  both  obvious  and  fundamental.  The 
vast  majority  of  us  are  interested  first  in  ourselves, 
and  second  in  our  next-door  neighbors.  The  domes- 
tic novel  shows  us  our  own  familiar  life,  the  life  of 
average,  everyday  humanity,  but  invested  with  an 
added  interest  and  dignity  by  its  translation  into 
art. 

"  For,  don't  you  mark  we're  made  so  that  we  love 
First  when  we  see  them  painted,  things  we  have  passed 
Perhaps  a  hundred  times  nor  cared  to  see."  * 

To  see  this  world  of  our  daily  life  in  the  pages  of 
fiction,  is  to  see  ourselves  and  our  neighbors  ;  to  find 
our  gossip  and  our  daily  newspapers  given  a  depth 
and  meaning  which  we  are  too  shallow  and  too  con- 
ventional to  perceive.  The  group  of  writers  who 
first  claimed  this  world  for  English  fiction  make  an 
era  in  the  history  of  art. 

In  1740  Samuel  Richardson  (1689-1761),  a  London 
printer,  short,  plump,  ruddy,  and  prosperous,  began 
this    new    era    by    the    publication    of 
Bichardaon     Pf.^nela^  or    Virtue  Rewarded,  the  story 
of  a  "  virtuous  serving  maid."     Richard- 
son seems  a  strange   leader   for   a   new   movement. 
Up  to  this  time  he  had  done  nothing  in  literature, 

*  "  Fra  Lippo  Lippi,"  R.  Browning. 


248       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

and  the  fact  that  this  shy,  demure,  and  highly  esti- 
mable printer  should,  at  the  age  of  fifty,  suddenly 
blossom  into  the  novelist  of  sentiment,  into  a  master 
in  the  intricate  analysis  of  human  passion,  seems  even 
more  surprising  than  Defoe's  late  incursion  into  the 
realm  of  adventure.  The  fact  is  partly  explained 
by  Richardson's  early  and  unconscious  preparation 
for  his  task.  In  all  his  novels  the  story  is  told  in  a 
series  of  letters.  Richardson  stumbled  into  fiction 
through  his  marked  facility  in  letter-writing,  as 
Defoe  passed  into  it  from  journalism  by  almost  im- 
perceptible steps.  When  only  a  \>oy  of  thirteen,  the 
future  author  of  Pamela  was  intrusted  by  three 
young  girls  of  his  native  town  in  Derbyshire  with 
the  delicate  task  of  composing  their  love  letters,  each 
confiding  in  him  "unknown  to  the  others";  "  all,"  he 
tells  us,  "  having  a  high  opinion  of  my  taciturnity." 
During  his  apprenticeship  to  a  London  bookseller,  he 
kept  up  a  voluminous  correspondence  with  a  gentle- 
man of  cultivation  who  was  greatly  interested  in  him. 
The  episode  of  the  love  letters  is  one  of  especial  sig- 
nificance in  its  bearing  on  his  later  work.  Boys  of 
thirteen  are  not  usually  distinguished  by  their  warmth 
of  sympathy  with  sentiment,  but  we  should  resist 
the  natural  temptation  to  look  only  at  the  ludicrous 
side  of  the  situation,  and  see  in  it  a  proof  of  that 
intimate  understanding  of  women  which  is  one  of 
the  distinctive  marks  of  Richardson's  work.  In 
Richardson  there  is  a  notable  absence  of  that  weakness 
and  unreality  in  the  women's  characters,  so  often 
found  in  the  best  work  of  masculine  novelists,  which 
arises  from  an  inability  to  appreciate  the  feminine 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  249 

point  of  view.  On  the  contrary,  the  character  of 
Clarissa  Harlowe,  in  his  greatest  work,  is  admittedly  a 
triumph  of  portraiture.  There  was  something  in 
Richardson  that  invited  feminine  confidences,  and  the 
creator  of  Clarissa  Harlowe  gathered  around  him 
from  boyhood  to  old  age  an  admiring  circle  of 
women.  "As  a  bashful  and  not  a  forward  boy,"  he 
writes,  "  I  was  an  early  favorite  with  all  the  young 
women  of  taste  and  reading  in  the  neighborhood,'* 
and  long  after  he  was  described  by  Dr.  Johnson  as 
one  who  "  took  care  to  be  always  surrounded  by 
women,  who  listened  to  him  implicitly  and  did  not 
venture  to  contradict  his  opinions." 

Richardson's  object  in  his  novels  was  avowedly 
a  moral  one.  Pamela  was  the  result  of  a  suggestion 
on  the  part  of  some  of  his  friends  that  he 

should  treat  of  the  concerns  of  common     Richard8°n'» 

novels, 
life  in  a  series  of  familiar  letters,  prepared 

so  as  to  be  of  use  to  "  country  readers,  who  were 
unable  to  indite  for  themselves."  He  announces  on 
the  title  page  that  the  work  is  "  Published  in  order 
to  cultivate  the  Principles  of  Virtue  and  Religion." 
Richardson's  three  novels,  Pamela  (1740),  Clarissa 
Harlowe  (1748),  and  Sir  Charles  Grandison  (1753), 
deal  respectively  with  life  in  the  humbler,  higher, 
and  aristocratic  circles.  In  the  first  two  the  central 
character  is  that  of  the  heroine  ;  in  the  last,  Richard- 
son, whose  chief  male  characters  had  before  this  been 
despicable  and  unprincipled,  attempts  to  make  amends 
by  manufacturing  a  fine  gentleman,  composed  of  all 
the  virtues,  and  devoid  of  any  redeeming  grace  of 
human  weakness.  An  impossible  aggregation  of  the 


250       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

virtues  is  not  a  character,  and  Richardson's  hero  is 
one  with  whom  imperfect  humanity  cannot  sympa- 
thize. Yet  Grandison  has  come  to  stand  so  perfectly 
for  a  kind  of  buckram  hero,  the  apotheosis  of  stately 
deportment,  tediousness,  moral  platitudes,  and  ruffles, 
that  his  very  name  has  become  a  useful  part  of  our 
vocabulary.  Critics  agree  that  one  of  Richardson's 
greatest  merits  as  a  novelist  is  his  profound  knowl- 
edge of  the  human  heart,  and  one  of  his  greatest 
defects  the  length  and  diffuseness  of  his  books.  He 
took  infinite  pains  to  produce  the  effect  at  which  he 
aimed,  elaborating  with  the  artistic  carefulness  of 
a  Meissonier.  Reading  page  after  page,  volume 
after  volume,  these  minute  but  skillful  touches  grad- 
ually impress  us  with  a  cumulative  force.  Readers 
of  to-day  find  the  eight  large  volumes  of  his  master- 
piece too  severe  a  demand  on  time  and  endurance, 
but  the  world  has  recognized  his  genius  and  his  far- 
reaching  influence  on  literature. 

It  was  the  publication  of  Pamela  that  turned  the 
genius  of  Henry  Fielding  (1707-1754)  to  the  writing 
of  novels,  but  the   spirit  which  moved 
p-61|d^  the  second  great  novelist  of  this  epoch 

was  not  the  admiration  of  a  follower, 
but  the  instinctive  protest  of  a  born  antagonist. 
With  the  mild  and  diminutive  Richardson,  sentimen- 
talist, water-drinker,  and  vegetarian,  the  boisterous, 
easy-going,  masculine  Harry  Fielding,  with  his  big 
frame  and  high  spirits,  his  keen  sense  of  the  ludi- 
crous and  his  healthy  hatred  of  affectation,  could 
have  but  little  in  common.  Richardson  subsisted  on 
weak  tea  and  feminine  adulation.  Fielding,  accord- 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  BESTORATION  251 

ing  to  Lady  Mary  "Wortley  Montagu,  "  forgot  every- 
thing when  he  was  before  a  venison  pasty,  or  over 
a  flask  of  champagne."  Yet,  in  spite  of  his  debts, 
his  extravagance,  and  the.  dash  of  the  Bohemian  in 
his  youth,  Fielding  was  a  sound,  sterling  bit  of  man- 
hood, of  that  sturdy,  genuine  type  which  we  think  of 
as  emphatically  English.  Such  a  man  was  quick  to 
detect  a  strain  of  false  sentiment  in  Pamela,  which 
its  author  was  too  serious  or  too  conventional  to  per- 
ceive. So  The  Adventures  of  Joseph  Andrews  ( 1 742), 
a  "  virtuous  serving  man,"  supposed  to  be  a  brother 
of  Pamela,  was  begun  as  a  parody.  But  as  the  book 
grew,  Fielding's  interest  carried  him  far  beyond  his 
primary  intention,  and  the  result  was  a  great  and 
original  contribution  to  fiction.  Fielding 
differed  from  his  predecessor  in  literary  ?"  Iiterar7 
form  as  well  as  in  spirit  ;  instead  of  em- 
ploying either  the  autobiographical  or  the  epistolary 
form,  he  wrote  his  novels  in  the  third  person  ;  intro- 
ducing, from  time  to  time,  introductory  chapters  in 
which  he  talks  with  his  readers  face  to  face.  Field- 
ing's novels  were  intended  to  be  a  kind  of  comic 
prose-epic,  his  purpose  being  to  show  the  life  of 
the  time,  especially  on  its  ridiculous  side,  with  the 
breadth,  but  not  the  dignity,  of  the  epic  manner. 
He  was  aptly  called  by  Byron  "  the  prose-Homer  of 
human  nature."  Fielding's  work  is  eminently  natu- 
ral ;  while  we  miss  in  him  many  of  the  subtler  and 
finer  qualities,  in  his  grasp  of  fact,  his  manliness  and 
solidity,  he  is  manifestly  the  fellow-countryman  of 
Chaucer,  of  Shakespeare,  and  of  Browning.  He 
fcated  cant  and  Pharisaism,  and  his  large  heart  was 


252       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

very  tender  toward  womanhood  and  goodness.  The 
creator  of  the  simple-hearted  Parson  Adams,  of 
Amelia,  with  her  woman's  power  to  love  and  forgive, 
had  under  all  outward  roughness  a  reverent  and 
genuine  nature. 

Roderick  Random,  the   earliest  work  of   Tobias 
Smollett  (1721-1771),  the  third  novelist  of  the  epoch, 
Tobias  appeared-in  1748,  and  Tom  Jones,  gener- 

George          ally  considered  Fielding's  masterpiece,  in 
Smollett.       tjie  year  following,  so  that,  within  ten 
years  from  the  publication  of  Pamela,  the  founda- 
tions of  the  new  novel  were  securely  laid. 

The  realistic  school  of  fiction  thus  begun  continued 
uppermost  until  well  toward  the  end  of  the  century. 
But  the  pressure  of  a  new  spirit  of  romanticism> 
which  gained  ground  during  the  latter  half  of  the 
century,  showed  itself  at  intervals,  as  in  the  publica- 
tion of  Wai  pole's  Castle  of  Otranto,  in  1764.  About 
1790  the  advent  of  medievalism  in  the  romances  of 
Mrs.  Radcliffe  showed  that  the  wave  of  the  Gothic 
revival  had  invaded  fiction,  and  from  this  time  to  the 
coming  of  Miss  Austen,  the  supremacy  of  the  romance 
was  assured. 

STUDY  LIST 
HISTORY  OF  THE  NOVEL  (continued) 

In  addition  to  the  books  on  the  history  of  English  fiction, 
given  in  Study  List  on  p.  214,  most  of  which  include  this 
period  (1740-  dr.  1814),  the  following  may  be  used  for  fuller 
study  : 

(a)  Richardson.  Mrs.  A.  L.  Barbauld  has  prefixed  a 
life  of  Richardson,  with  observations  on  his  writings,  to  her 


THE  ENGLAND  OF  THE  RESTORATION  253 

edition  of  his  correspondence  (6  vols.).  Sir  "Walter  Scott's 
biographical  sketch,  in  his  Lives  of  t fie  Novelists,  is  founded  on 
the  life  by  Mrs.  Barbauld,  just  mentioned.  Mrs.  Margaret 
Oliphant's  (Wilson's)  Historical  Sketches  of  the  Reign  of  George 
II.  ("The  Novelist,"  vol.  ii.  10)  contains  a  very  pleasing 
sketch  of  Richardson,  in  which  we  are  brought  close  to 
him  on  the  personal  and  human  side.  (Also  in  Blackwood's 
Magazine,  vol.  cv.  p.  253.)  The  article  on  "Richardson's 
Novels,"  in  Leslie  Stephen's  Hours  in  a  Library,  First 
Series,  is  an  excellent  critical  study ;  v.,  also,  "  Samuel 
Richardson,"  by  H.  D.  Traill  in  the  Contemporary  Review, 
vol.  xliv.  p.  528.  Richardson  appears  incidentally,  "an  old 
gentleman  toddling  along  the  walk  with  a  train  of  admiring 
ladies,"  in  Thackeray's  Virginians,  chap.  xxvi. ;  v.,  also,  fcr 
both  Richardson  and  Fielding,  as  well  as  for  some  interesting 
remarks  on  the  novel  in  general,  William  Hazlitt's  lecture 
"On  the  English  Novelists"  in  his  Lectures  on  the  English 
Comic  Writers.  There  are  references  to  Richardson  in  Bos- 
well's  Life  of  Johnson,  and  Johnson's  Tour  of  the  Hebrides. 
Johnson  says  in  the  former  :  "  Richardson  hath  little  conversa- 
tion, except  about  his  own  works,  of  which  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 
said  he  was  always  willing  to  talk,  and  glad  to  have  them 
introduced"  (Napier's  edition  of  Boswell,  vol.  iii.  p.  163). 

(b)  Fielding.  There  is  a  biographical  sketch  of  Fielding  in 
Sir  Walter  Scott's  Live*  of  the  Novelists,  but  the  first  attempt 
at  a  complete  biographical  and  critical  study  is  TJie  Life  of 
Henry  Fielding  ;  with  Not  ices  of  His  Writings  ;  His  Times  and 
His  Contemporaries,  by  Frederick  Lawrence  (1855).  This  book 
was  criticised  by  Thomas  Keightley  in  Fraser's  Magazine, 
January  and  February,  1858.  Probably  the  best  life  is  that  by 
Austin  Dobson  in  the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series.  For  criti- 
cal estimate  of  Fielding's  writings,  v.  Thackeray's  English 
Humorists;  Leslie  Stephen's  Hours  in  a  Library,  Third  Series; 
George  Saintsbury's  Introduction  to  The  Works  of  Henry 
Fielding  (J.  M.  Dent  &  Co.,  1893),  and  George  Barnett  Smith's 
article,  "  Our  First  Great  Novelist,"  first  published  in  Mac- 
miUan's  Migazine,  vol.  xxx.  p.  1,  and  afterward  included  in 
the  author's  Poets  and  Novelists. 


254       INTRODUCTION  TO   ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

(e)  Later  Novelists.  References  for  study  of  some  of  the 
greater  norelists  after  Fielding  will  be  found  in  special 
Study  Lists.  As  supplementary  to  this,  the  student  may  find 
some  help  from  the  references  on  p.  214. 

Biographical  and  critical  sketches  of  Smollett  and  Sterne 
•will  be  found  in  Thackeray's  English  Humorists,  and  Sir  Wal- 
ter Scott's  Lives  of  the  Novelists.  There  is  a  Life  of  Smollett 
by  David  Hannay  (with  bibliography),  and  of  Sterne  by  H.  D. 
Traill.  There  is  also  a  large  Life  of  Sterne  by  Percy  Fitz- 
gerald (2  vols.). 


PART  IV 

THE  MODERN  ENGLISH  PERIOD 
Since  cir.  1750 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  BEGEOnua  OF  MODERN  UTERATUBE-Cir.  1750-1830 

THE  history  of  England  during  the  greater  part  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  is  the  history  of  rapid  and 

comprehensive  changes  in  almost  every  , 

.      ,     ,..       .    ,          Changes  in 
department  of  the  nation  s  life — indus-  eighteenth 

trial,  religious,  political,  social,  and  in-  century  Eng- 
tellectual.  As  we  advance  the  England 
of  Pope  and  Addison,  now  well-nigh  as  remote  from 
our  daily  life  as  that  of  Shakespeare  or  Milton, 
recedes  with  wonderful  swiftness,  and  through  a 
rapid  succession  of  changes  we  pass  into  the  England 
of  to-day.  As  we  near  the  tniddle  of  the  century 
the  political  corruption,  the  coldly  intellectual  temper, 
the  studied  repression  and  brilliant  cynicism  melt 
before  the  fervor  of  a  rising  spirituality,  and  new 
generations,  actuated  by  diametrically  opposite  ideals 
of  life,  crowd  forward  to  displace  the  old.  This 
fresh  national  life  utters  itself  in  new  forms  of  lit- 
erature, and  with  the  rise  of  Modern  England  we 


256         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

reach  the  beginning  of  a  literary  period  surpassed 
only  by  that  of  the  Elizabethans. 

We  may  relate  many  of  these  changes  to  one 
great  motive  cause.  We  have  watched  that  mood 
of  dissolute  levity  which  immediately  succeeded  the 
Restoration  pass  into  an  era  of  comparative  decency 
and  frigid  "  good  sense."  Then  Addison  utters  his 
kindly  but  somewhat  superficial  strictures  on  fash- 
ionable follies  ;  then  Pope  is  before  us,  with  his 
little  vanities  and  complaisant  optimism,  and  Swift, 
savage,  morose,  and  terrible,  is  intriguing  and  place- 
hunting  like  the  rest,  but  with  the  bitter  inward 
protest  of  contempt  and  scorn  of  such  a  world.  Now 
the  nation  was  too  inherently  emotional  and  religious 
for  such  a  mood  to  long  endure  ;  the  higher  side  of 
men's  nature  began  to  reassert  itself ;  and  those 
human  hopes  and  longings  which  the  "  freezing 
reason  "  cannot  satisfy  began  to  stir  and  claim  their 

due, 

"  And  like  a  man  in  wrath  the  heart 
Stood  up  and  answered,  '  I  have  felt."* 

So  in  the  drought  of  the  desert  men  felt  the 
gathering  rush  of  new  feelings,  and  as  their  hearts 
were  again  moved  with  pity,  enthusiasm,  and  faith, 
they  felt  within  them  the  great  longing  of  the  prodi- 
gal to  arise  and  return. 

The  new  enthusiasm  and  faith  are  seen  in  a  great 
wave  of  religious  feeling  that  is  associated  with  the 
rise  of  Methodism.     In  the  midst  of  the 
M  tlT<r          co^  intellectual  speculations  of  Bol ing- 
broke,  and  the  skepticism  of  Hume,  we 
are  startled  by  the  passionate  appeal  of  Whitfield  and 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE         257 

Wesley  to  the  conscience  and  the  heart.  By  1738 
the  work  of  these  men  was  fairly  begun,  and  their 
marvelous  eloquence  and  intense  conviction  struck 
deep  into  the  souls  of  thousands.  In  his  Analogy  of 
Religion,  Natural  and  Revealed,  to  the  Constitution 
and  Voice  of  Nature  (1736),  Bishop  Butler  relied 
for  his  support  of  Christianity  on  close  and  definite 
reasoning,  but  the  preaching  of  Whitfield  made  the 
tears  trickle  down  the  grimy  faces  of  the  Bristol 
colliers.  This  influence  went  far  outside  the  ranks 
of  the  Methodists  themselves.  In  the  early  years  of 
the  century,  the  Church  of  England  shared  in  the 
prevailing  coldness  and  unspirituality;  the  filling  of 
its  offices  was  tainted  by  political  intrigue,  while  its 
clergy  were  idle  and  often  shamefully  lax  in  manners 
and  morals.  Methodism,  starting  within  the  limits 
of  the  Church,  helped  to  infuse  into  it,  and  into 
society  at  large,  a  new  moral  and  spiritual  earnest- 
ness. 

The  effects  of  this  revival  of  a  more  spiritual  life 
in   the   midst   of   a   jovial,    unbelieving,   and   often 
coarse  and  brutal  society,  are  seen  in  the  DeeDer  B 
growth  of  a  practical  charity,  and  in  an  pathy  with 
increasing  sense  of  human   brotherhood  Inan* 
and  of  the  inherent  dignity  of  manhood.     English 
history  contains  few  things  more  truly  beautiful  than 
the  story  of  this  awakening  of  tenderness  and  com- 
passion.    The  novel  sense  of  pity  became  wide  and 
heartfelt  enough  to  embrace  not  men  only,  but  all 
wantonly  hurt  and  suffering  creatures.     Bull-baiting 
gradually  fell  into  disfavor,  and  the  cruel  sport  known 
as  bull-running  was  finally  suppressed  at  Tutbury  in 


258  INTRODUCTION   TO    ENGLISH    LITERATURE 

1778.     The  poet  Thomson  commands  the  labors  of 
the  "generous  band," 

"  Who.  touched  with  human  woe,  redressive  searched 
Into  the  horrors  of  the  gloomy  jail."  * 

John  Howard  endured  the  noisome  horrors  of  the 
English  prisons  (1775-1789)  that  he  might  lighten 
the  unspeakable  sufferings  of  the  captives,  and 
Wilberforce,  Clarksoo,  and  Pitt  labored  for  the 
abolition  of  slavery,  f  The  criminal  was  no  longer 
dragged  through  crowded  London  streets  to  be  hanged 
at  Tyburn,  a  holiday  spectacle  to  jeering  or  admiring 
throngs  ;  the  rigors  of  the  code  which  condemned 
wretches  to  death  forsa  trifling  theft  were  gradually 
softened.  So,  in  these  and  countless  other  ways,  the 
social  revulsion  against  brutality  and  violence  which 
marked  the  rise  of  a  new  England  unmistakably 
declared  itself. 

To  some  extent  we  may  even  associate  this  fuller 

power  to  feel  with  the  rise  and  astonishing  progress 

of  modern  music,  the  art  of  pure  emotion, 

both  in  Germany  and  England.     Handel 

settled  in  England  in  1710.     He  struggled  for  years 

against   popular   neglect   and    misunderstanding   to 

win,  toward  the  middle  of  the  century,  conspicuous 

recognition.     It  is  significant  to  contrast  the  fashion- 

*  The  Season*,  "  Winter,"  1.  358.  Thomson  is  speaking  of 
a  jail  committee  of  1729.  See  this  whole  passage  from  1.  832- 
888,  as  good  instance  of  the  new  humanity  in  poetry. 

f  Clarkson  and  Wilberforce  began  their  anti-slavery  agita- 
tion about  1787,  enlisting  the  aid  of  Pitt,  The  Emancipation 
Bill  was  passed  in  1888. 


THE  BEGINNING   OF  MODERN  LITERATURE         259 

able  audiences  that,  lost  to  common  decency,  had 
once  applauded  the  immoral  wit  of  Wycherley  or 
Farquhar,  with  that  assembly,  swept  by  a  common 
wave  of  enthusiasm  and  worship,  which  rose  with 
one  consent  and  stood  through  the  singing  of  the 
«  Hallelujah  Chorus."  * 

A  comparison  of  England  under  "Walpole  and 
under  Pitt  helps  us  to  realize  the  growth  of  the 
power  of  enthusiasm  and  imagination. 
The  administration  of  Robert  Walpole 
(1721-1742)  was  an  interval  of  profound 
peace,  during  which  the  energies  of  England  were 
largely  given  to  trade  and  the  development  of  her 
internal  resources.  Through  the  increase  of  the 
Colonial  trade,  and  from  other  causes,  the  commer- 
cial and  business  side  of  life  assumed  a  new  impor- 
tance.f  The  peace  left  men  free  to  devote  their 
energies  to  money-making  ;  the  merchant  gained  in 
social  position,  and  wealth  rapidly  increased.! 

Walpole,  the  guiding  spirit  of  this  prosperous 
period,  was  the  embodiment  of  its  prosaic  and 
mercantile  character.  Country-bred,  shrewd,  and 
narrow-minded,  he  had  great  business  ability,  but 

"*  The  famous  chorus  of  praise  in  Handel's  Messiah.  The 
performance  referred  to  was  in  1743. 

f  See  Green's  History  of  English  People,  vol.  iv.  pp.  126-160. 

$  In  the  Spectator  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  stands  for  the  landed 
gentry,  and  Sir  Andrew  Freeport,  the  city  merchant,  for  the 
rising  merchant  class,  v.  Spectator,  Xo.  cxxvi. ;  t>.  also  Scott's 
Rnh  Roy  for  contrast  between  the  Tory  squire,  who  stands  by 
Church  and  King,  and  the  new  commercial  magnate ;  v. 
Gibbin's  Industrial  History  of  England,  p.  145,  for  reference  to 
Scott's  llol)  Ron,  etc. 


260       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

was  incapable  of  approaching  life  from  its  ideal  or 
imaginative  side.  Openly  corrupt  in  his  political 
methods,  and  openly  incredulous  as  to  the  possibility 
of  conducting  practical  politics  by  other  means,  he 
laughed  at  appeals  to  man's  higher  nature  as  "  school- 
boy flights,"  and  declared  that  men  would  come  out 
of  their  rhapsodies  about  patriotism,  and  grow  wiser. 
Such  traits  are  characteristic  of  the  early  eighteenth 
century  England  ;  we  rightly  associate  that  low 
estimate  of  human  nature  on  which  Walpole  habitu- 
ally acted  with  Pope's  sneering  contempt  and 
Swift's  fierce  and  appalling  misanthropy.  But,  as  we 
advance  toward  the  middle  of  the  century,  those 
higher  impulses  which  were  manifesting  themselves 
in  so  many  different  directions  were  at  work  in 
politics  also.  Before  the  fall  of  Walpole  loftier  and 
purer  political  ideals  had  already  begun  to  take  form 
in  the  so-called  Patriot  party,  and  by  1757  William 
Pitt,  the  animating  spirit  of  the  new  government,  was 
virtually  at  the  head  of  affairs.  A  great  historian 
has  observed  *  that  Pitt  did  a  work  for  politics 
similar  to  that  which  Wesley  was,  at  the  same  time, 
accomplishing  for  religion.  He  believed  in  his  coun- 
trymen, and  England  responded  to  his  trust.  Instead 
of  debauching  public  morals  by  open  corruption,  he 
made  his  passionate  appeal  to  patriotism.  The 
interests  of  England,  seemingly  narrowed 
sionofEng-  in  Walpole's  time  to  insular  limits,  ex- 
land,  panded  before  men's  eyes,  as,  about  the 
middle  of  the  century,  the  nation  entered  upon  that 

*  8.   R.  Gardiner,    Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  title   "  Eng- 
land." 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODEKN  LITERATURE       26} 

great  duel  with  the  rival  power  of  France  which  was 
to  raise  her  from  an  island  monarchy  to  a  world 
empire.  Olive's  victory  at  Plassey  in  1757  laid  the 
foundation  of  her  supremacy  in  India,  Wolfe's  cap- 
ture of  Quebec  in  1759  established  her  dominion  in 
America.  Two  worlds,  the  rich  civilization  of  the 
ancient  East,  the  vast  and  undeveloped  resources  of 
the  new  West,  were  almost  at  the  same  instant  within 
her  grasp.  "  We  are  forced,"  said  Horace  Walpole, 
"to  ask  every  morning  what  victory  there  is, for  fear 
of  missing  one."  *  Men's  hearts  were  warm  with 
a  glow  of  patriotic  pride  and  a  sense  of  England's 
mighty  destiny.  A  widening  horizon,  a  more  cos- 
mopolitan spirit,  finds  its  way  into  literature.  In 
Southey's  Curse  of  Kehama  we  enter  the  world  of  the 
East,  with  its  unknown  gods  ;  in  Moore's  Lalla  Rookh 
we  journey  with  a  marriage  cavalcade  through  the 
Vale  of  Cashmere,  surrounded  by  all  the  splendors  of 
the  Orient  ;  in  Byron's  Childe  Harold  the  scenic 
background  to  the  somber  figure  of  the  pilgrim  is 
Europe  itself,  brought  before  us  with  a  sympathetic 
breadth  and  truth  unmatched  in  the  history  of  the 
literature. 

While  patriotism  and  imagination  were  thus  quick- 
ened by  the  great  part  that  England  began  to  play 
in  the  world- wide  drama  of  human  des-  ^j-g^-i 
tiny,  at  home   a   silent  revolution   was  and  social 
transforming  the  aspect  of  life  and  the  ^vs6*- 
very  structure  of  society.     From  the  building  of  the 
first  canal  by  James  Brindley  in  1761,  new  facilities 

*  Quoted  by  Green,  History  of  English  People,  vol.  iv.  p.  193^ 
which  see. 


262       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

for  transportation  and  new  methods  of  manufacture 
follow  quickly  on  each  other,  until  the  agricultural 
England  of  old  times  becomes  the  industrial  England 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  the  "  workshop  of  the 
•world."  Following  hard  on  these  changes  are  those 
problems  of  labor  and  capital  which  confront  our 
modern  world. 

And  side  by  side  with  all  these  new  things  are  the 
initial  steps  in  one  of  the  greatest  historic  movements 

since  the  Renaissance,  the  rise  of  modern 
The  growth  ,  .     . 

of  democracy  democracy.       W:.th    the    conviction   or 

and  the  age    human  brotherhood,  with  the  passionate 
of  revolution.  ,     .  .          -,..,.,. 

sense  ot  the  worth  and  dignity  of  indi- 

O  *- 

vidual  manhood,  come  the  blood  and  violence  of 
those  social  upheavals  which  usher  in  our  modern 
world.  Men  are  possessed  with  a  fever  for  the 
"  rights  of  man  "  ;  they  dream  of  a  wholesale  re- 
organization of  society,  and  the  coming  of  an  idyllic 
Golden  Age  ;  they  struggle  to  convert  Rousseau's 
gospel  of  a  "  return  to  nature "  into  a  practical 
reality.  In  America,  a  Republic  is  established  on  the 
foundationsof  human  freedom  and  equality;  in  feudal 
France,  after  generations  of  dumb  misery,  the  people 
lift  their  bowed  backs  from  labor  to  wreak  on  their 
rulers  the  accumulated  vengeance  of  centuries.  The 
finest  spirits  of  England  are  thrilled  and  exalted  by 
this  flood  of  enthusiasm  for  the  cause  of  man,  the 
word  "liberty"  sounds  as  a  talisman  in  men's  ears, 
and  the  spirit  of  revolution  controls  and  inspires  the 
best  productions  of  the  literature. 

We  have    noted  the   working   of    new   forces   in 
English   society   in   Wesley  and    Pitt    daring    the 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       263 

earlier  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  or  from  about 
1740.  Modern  England,  thus  beginning 
to  take  shape  even  during  the  lifetime  after  the™ 
of  Pope  and  Walpole,  had  a  litera-  death  of 
ture  of  its  own  ;  but  the  older  literary 
methods  and  ideas  by  no  means  came  to  an  end  with 
the  beginning  of  the  new.  Accordingly,  after  the 
rise  of  this  new  literature,  or  from  about  1725,  we 
find  the  literature  of  England  flowing,  as  it  were,  in 
two  separate  streams.  The  one,  marked  by  a  mode 
or  fashion  of  writing  which  began  definitely  with 
Dryden,  may  be  traced  from  Dryden  on  through 
Pope,  its  most  perfect  representative,  through  Samuel 
Johnson,  until  its  dissipation  in  the  time  of  Words- 
worth ;  the  other,  springing  from  a  different  source 
and  of  a  different  spirit,  its  purer  and  more  natural 
music  audible  almost  before  that  of  Pope  has  fairly 
begun,  flows  on  with  gathered  force  and  volume,  and 
with  deepening  channel,  almost  to  our  own  time. 
We  have  traced  the  first  of  these  streams  until  the 
death  of  Pope  ;  we  must  now  indicate  the  general 
direction  of  its  course  after  that  event.  Many  of 
the  features  which  had  characterized  this  Restoration 
literature  in  the  reign  of  Anne  were  prolonged  far 
into  the  century,  and  some  writers  modeled  their 
style  on  Pope  and  Addison  until  toward  the  century's 
close.  The  prosaic  spirit,  in  which  intellectual  force 
was  warmed  by  no  glow  of  passion,  continued  to  find 
a  suitable  form  of  expression  in  didactic  and  satiric 
verse.  In  the  protracted  moralizings  of  Young's 
Night  Thoughts  (1742-1745),  and  in  Blair's  Grave 
(1743),  a  shorter  but  somewhat  similar  Doem,  we 


264        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

detect  a  general  resemblance  to  the  Essay  on  Man} 
while  Henry  Brooke's  poem  on  The  Universal  Beauty 
(1735)  and  Erasmus  Darwin's  Botanic  Garden, 
(1791)  obviously  echo  the  favorite  metrical  cadence 
of  Pope.  In  the  two  works  last  named,  poetry  is 
called  in  to  expound  science  instead  of  theology  or 
philosophy,  but  the  tone  is  none  the  less  didactic  ;  and 
it  is  worth  noting  that  in  The  Botanic  Garden  the 
Rosicrucian  sylphs  and  gnomes  of  The,  Rape  of  the 
Lock  reappear  as  personifications  of  the  elemental 
forces  of  nature. 

But  there  is  something  more  important  for  us  to 

notice  than  such  single  instances  of  the  survival  of 

the  early  litei'ary  spirit.    For  forty  years 

Jolmson  after  the  death  of  P°Pe>  tne  greatest 
personal  force  in  English  literature  and 
criticism,  the  dominant  power  in  the  literary  circles 
of  London,  was  Samuel  Johnson  (1709-1784),  a  man 
whose  sympathies  lay  with  the  literary  standards 
of  the  earlier  part  of  the  century,  and  who  had 
but  little  comprehension  of  the  new  spirit  which, 
in  his  lifetime,  was  beginning  to  displace  them. 
Johnson,  the  son  of  a  poor  bookseller  in  Lich- 
field,  came  up  to  London  in  1737,  with  three  acts 
of  a  play  in  his  pocket,  and  the  determination  to 
make  his  way  through  literature.  For  many  years 
his  life  was  one  of  terrible  hardship,  but  he  bore 
his  privations  manfully,  with  unflinching  courage, 
and  with  a  beautiful  tenderness  toward  those  yet 
more  unfortunate.  He  obtained  employment  on  a 
periodical,  The  Gentleman's  Magazine,  and  soon 
afterward  made  a  great  hit  by  his  satire  of  London 


SAMUEL     JOHNSON 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       265 

(1738),  a  poera  which  attracted  the  favorable  notice 
of  Pope.  He  wrote  another  satire,  The  Vanity  of 
Human  Wishes  (1749),  conducted  The  Rambler 
(March  20,  1750,  to  March  14,  1752),  and  The  Idler 
(April,  1758,  to  April,  1760),  papers  similar  in  design 
to  The  Tailer  and  The  Spectator,  and  in  1755  pub- 
lished his  English  Dictionary.  Shortly  after  the 
accession  of  George  III.  Johnson's  burdens  were 
lifted  by  the  grant  of  a  pension  of  three  hundred 
pounds  a  year.  During  the  remainder  of  his  life  he 
ruled  as  the  literary  autocrat  of  London.  He  was 
the  leading  spirit  in  a  literary  club  founded  by  him 
in  1764  in  conjunction  with  tlie  painter,  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds.  Burke,  Goldsmith,  Garrick,  Fox,  Gibbon, 
and  Sheridan  were  members  of  this  club,  yet  among 
such  men  Johnson  maintained  his  supremacy.  Ma- 
caulay  says  that  the  "  verdicts  pronounced  by  this 
conclave  on  new  books  were  speedily  known  all  over 
London,  and  were  sufficient  to  sell  off  a  whole  edition 
in  a  day,  or  to  condemn  the  sheet  to  the  service  of 
the  trunk  maker  and  the  pastry  cook."  *  After  writ- 
ing several  other  prose  works,  Johnson  died  Decem- 
ber 13,  1784,  full  of  years  and  honors.  While  John- 
son's works  are  now  comparatively  little  read,  he 
remains  one  of  the  most  familiar  and  strongly  marked 
personages  in  the  literature.  "  The  old 
philosopher  is  still  among  us  in  the 
brown  coat  with  the  metal  buttons  and 
the  shirt  which  ought  to  be  at  wash,  blinking,  puf- 
fing, rolling  his  head,  drumming  with  his  fingers, 
tearing  his  meat  like  a  tiger,  and  swallowing  his  tea 
*  Article  on  "  Johnson."  Encyclopaedia  Britannic*. 


266        INTRODUCTION  TO   ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

in  oceans.  No  human  being  who  has  been  more 
than  seventy  years  in  the  grave  is  so  well  known  to 
us.  And  it  is  but  just  to  say  that  our  intimate 
acquaintance  with  what  he  would  himself  have  called 
the  anfractuosities  of  his  intellect  and  of  his  temper 
serves  only  to  strengthen  our  conviction  that  he  was 
both  a  great  and  a  good  man."* 

While  Johnson  wrote  some  strong,  quotable  verse, 
he  was  pre-eminently  a  prose  writer  in  an  age  of  prose. 

We  have  seen   how,  during  the  greater 
Johnson  the  •        •     j  A 

prose  writer  Part  °*  nis  century,  the  uninspired  tem- 
of  an  age  of  per  of  the  time  found  prose  a  congenial 
medium  ;  how  the  close  adherence  to  fact 
found  a  new  vehicle  of  expression  in  the  realistic 
novel  ;  but  apart  from  this  the  century  witnessed  a 
remarkable  growth  of  prose — in  history,  theology, 
philosophy,  political  economy,  and  in  law.  During 
its  middle  years  David  Hume  (1711-1776),  William 
Robertson  (1721-1793),  and  Edward  Gibbon  (1737- 
1794),  brought  the  art  of  historical  writing  to  a 
higher  excellence  than  it  had  yet  attained  in  England. 
Although  Gibbon  is  the  only  member  of  this  group 
whose  work  remains  as  a  really  lasting  contribution 
to  historical  literature,  the  histories  of  both  Rob- 
ertson and  Hume  had  an  important  influence  on  his- 
torical writing.  Gibbon,  one  of  the  great  historians 
of  the  world,  gave  his  life  to  a  single  mighty  work, 
his  History  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman 
Empire  (1776—1788),  and  built  the  massive  structure 
of  his  masterpiece  with  such  minute  attention  to 
accuracy  of  detail,  and  such  a  comprehensive  genius 
*  Article  on  "  Johnson."  Encyclopaedia  Britannicn, 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       267 

for  the  symmetry  and  grandeur  of  the  general  plan, 
that  his  work  remains  unrivaled.  While  an  era  was 
thus  made  in  historical  writing,  Sir  William  Black- 
stone,  in  his  Commentaries  on  the  Laws  of  England 
(1765),  performed  an  unparalleled  service  for  Eng- 
lish jurisprudence,  Adam  Smith,  in  his  "Wealth  of 
Nations  (1776),  recreated  the  science  of  political 
economy,  and  a  great  political  literature  grew  up 
under  the  genius  of  Burke.  Yet  in  such  an  age 
Johnson  remains  a  central  figure.  He  was  remotely 
connected  with  the  development  of  the  novel  by  his 
didactic  story  of  Rasselas  (1759)  ;  his  Lives  of  the 
Poets  (1777-1781),  while  by  no  means  free  from 
characteristic  limitations,  is  probably  his  most  lasting 
contribution  to  literature.  Yet  Johnson  belonged  to 
a  time  that  was  passing.  His  poems  of  London  and 
The  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes  follow  the  satiric 
style  made  popular  by  Dryden  and  Pope,  a  style 
greatly  in  vogue  when  Johnson  began  his  literary 
eareer  ;  and  are  as  obviously  modeled  after  Pope  in 
their  versification  and  manner.  The  Rambler  is  as 
plainly  imitated  from  The  Tatler  and  The  Spectator, 
although  through  Johnson's  ponderous,  many- 
Bj'llabled  style  it  follows  them,  in  the  clever  phrase 
of  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu,  "  as  a  pack  horse 
follows  a  hunter."  Yet  while  Johnson  thus  stands 
as  the  bulwark  of  the  old  order,  both  by  his  own 
work  and  b}r  his  critical  verdicts  on  that  of  others,  all 
about  him  new  agitations  were  already  rife.  Abso- 
lute as  was  his  literary  dictatorship,  his  throne  was 
reared  on  the  verge  of  that  revolution  which  begins 
the  modern  period  of  our  literary  history  The 


268       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

industrial  and  social  England,  the  rise  of  which  we 
have  suggested,  was  taking  shape  between  Johnson's 
arrival  in  London  in  1737  and  his  death,  in  1784  ;  new 
feelings  utterly  opposed  to  many  of  his  traditions 
and  prejudices,  and  alien  to  his  understanding  and 
ha^Us  of  thought,  were  quickening  into  life  around 
him.  While  he  held  steadily  to  the  ancient  ways, 
those  changes  in  literary  standards  had  already  begun 
which  have  led  to  the  reversal  of  nearly  every  im- 
portant dictum  uttered  by  this  great  literary  law- 
giver in  matters  of  criticism. 

The  rising  literature  is  obviously  but  another  out- 
come of  that  general  revolt  against  the  earlier  sfcftnd- 
.  ards  of  the  century,  to  which  we  have 

teristics  of    already    alluded.     If   we  would   under- 

the  new        stand  it,  we  must  read  it  in  its  due  rela- 
literature. 

tion  to  those  deeper  inward  experiences 

and  to  those  outward  changes  through  which  the 
nation  was  passing.  It  is  a  literature  purified  by 
the  new  love  of  nature,  by  the  new  sympathy  for 
suffering,  by  the  new  spirit  of  democracy  ;  it  caught 
up  and  relighted  the  extinguished  torch  of  passion 
and  imagination,  dropped  from  the  hand  of  the  last 
Elizabethan.  Its  departure  from  the  spirit  of  the 
classical  school  showed  itself  in  a  delight  in  the 
world  of  mediaeval  chivalry,  and  in  the  ballads  of 
the  people  which  had  been  passed  by  unnoticed.  In 
form  it  broke  away  from  the  narrow  trammels  of 
the  favorite  Augustan  measure,  to  revive  the  meters 
of  the  Elizabethans,  or  to  indulge  in  greater  metrical 
freedom.  The  literature  of  the  age  of  Anne  is 
essentially  slight  and  artificial ;  born  of  the  town  it 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       269 

deals  largely  with  the  surface  aspects  and  frivolities 
of  a  fashionable  city  life.  It  is  apt  to  be  didactic 
rather  than  imaginative  ;  it  is  strong  in  satire  and 
deficient  in  charity  and  human  sympathy.  But,  like 
Faistaff,  men  began  to  "  babble  of  green  fields." 
The  barbarous  condition  of  the  highways,  ill-made, 
neglected,  and  beset  by  "  gentlemen  of  the  road," 
had  rendered  traveling  laborious  and  even  dangerous, 
but  the  last  forty  years  of  the  century  saw  a  general 
improvement  in  the  facilities  for  travel,  which  tended 
to  break  down  the  barriers  between  town  and  country. 
"  The  closer  contact  between  town  and  country  life, 
the  revelation  to  a  cultivated  and  intellectual  town 
world  of  the  majestic  scenes  of  natural  beauty,  and 
the  infusion  of  a  new  refinement,  perception  of  beauty, 
and  intellectual  activity  into  country  life,  contributed 
largely  to  a  memorable  change  which  was  passing 
over  the  English  intellect."*  But  back  of  this 
increased  readiness  of  access  to  nature,  there  lay 
deep-seated  an  impatience  of  the  confined  limits  of 
the  town,  the  stirring  of  instincts  that  impelled  the 
age  to  seek  out  quiet  and  healing  in  an  unspoilt  and 
freer  world.  With  an  answering  impulse  the  litera- 
ture turned  from  those  city  streets,  through  which  in 
Trivia  the  muse  of  Gay  had  delighted,  to  regions 
untainted  by  artifice  and  fashion.  So  in  the  midst 
of  the  soulless  literature  of  the  town,  with  its  close 
atmosphere,  its  drawing-room  pettiness,  its  painted 
faces  and  its  slanderous  tongues,  there  comes  to  our 

*Lecky,  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,  vol.  vi.  p. 
180.  The  reader  is  referred  to  his  account  of  improvements  io 
roads  from  p.  173  to  p.  184. 


270        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

heated  cheeks  the  fresh,  pure  air  from  the  woods  and 
fields,  as  poetry  turns  from  Belinda  at  her  toilet  to 
the  uncontaminated  world  of  nature.  In  1725  Allan 
Ramsay,  an  Edinburgh  wig-maker  and  bookseller, 
published  his  Gentle  Shepherd*  a  pastoral  in  which 
we  catch  a  genuine  whiff  of  country  air,  and  where, 
instead  of  the  classic  Damons  and  Daphnes  which 
Pope's  conventional  method  led  him  to  introduce  on 
English  soil,  we  have  veritable  country  people,  plain 
Patie  and  Roger.  Indeed,  Ramsay's  poem  was  an 
attempt  to  carry  out  the  views  of  certain  critics  f 
who  had  attacked  the  artificial  method  of  pastoral 
writing,  of  which  Pope  was  then  the  most  notable 
example,  for  the  ingenuity  of  its  classic  allusions  and 
for  its  want  of  fidelity  to  actual  country  life.  About 
the  same  time  another  Scotchman,  James  Thomson 
(1700-1748),  began  the  publication  of  The  Seasons 
(1726-1730),  a  poem  full  of  truthful  and  beautiful 
descriptions  of  nature  and  of  country  life,  seen  under 
the  changing  aspects  of  the  four  seasons.  This  work 
shows  a  close  and  sympathetic  observation  of  nature, 
but  the  lack  of  entire  simplicity  and  directness  in  its 
style  tells  us  that  poetry  was  not  yet  free  from  the 
conventionalities  and  mannerisms  of  the  Augustan 
writers. 

From  the  publication  of  The  Seasons  we  find  a 
growing  delight  in  nature  and  a  further  departure 

*  The  original  version  of  The  Gentle  Shepherd  was  included, 
under  the  name  of  "  Patie  and  Roger,"  in  a  collection  of 
Ramsay's  poems,  published  1721. 

t  See  the  criticism  in  The  Guardian  for  April  7,  1718,  No, 
23.  See  also  Life  of  Pope,  supra,  p.  208. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       271 

from  the  poetic  manner  of  Pope,  in  the  beautiful  Ode* 
of  William  Collins  (1746)  and  in  the  famous  Elegy 
in  a  Country  Churchyard  of  Thomas  Gray  (1751). 
Nature  and  "  the  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor  " 
are  the  respective  themes  of  the  Traveller  (1764)  and 
The  Deserted  Village  (17YO)  of  Oliver  Goldsmith, 
while  TJie  Minstrel  of  James  Beattie  (Bk.  1,  1771) 
sho\vs  us  a  j'outhful  poetic  genius  nourished  and 
inspired  by  the  influence  of  mountain,  sky,  and  sea. 
This  poetry  of  nature  was  carried  forward  in  the 
work  of  George  Crabbe,  who  possessed  the  power  to 
bring  nature  before  us  by  his  truth  of  observation 
and  his  unaffected,  if  homely,  style.  A  still  further 
step  was  made  in  the  poems  of  William  Cowper, 
whose  Task  (1785)  is  a  great  advance  on  the  work  of 
Thomson  in  the  reality  and  directness  of  >ts  natural 
descriptions. 

And  this  change  in  the  spirit  of  poetry  was  accom- 
panied by  significant  changes  in  poetic  form.  During 
the  years  when  the  French  influence  was  uppermost, 
the  decasyllabic  couplet  was  employed,  in  longer 
poems,  almost  to  the  exclusion  of  any  other  form  of 
verse.  Dryden  sought  to  substitute  it  for  the  blank 
verse  of  the  Elizabethans  ;  Milton's  refusal  to  use 
it  in  Paradise  Lost  was  in  such  flagrant  defiance 
of  the  critical  canons  of  the  day  that  sundry  well- 
meaning  admirers  of  the  substance  of  that  great  epio 
paraphrased  it  in  the  sovereign  meter  to  remove  its 
harsh  irregularity  in  form.* 

We  find  one  explanation  of  the  extravagant  popn- 
*See  article  in  Andover  Revieu-f  January  1891,  "Some 
Paraphrasers  of  Milton." 


272       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

larity  of  this  verse  in  its  perfect  adaptability  to  the 
poetic  needs  of  the  time.  The  heroic  couplet,  aa 
employed  by  Pope,  by  its  pauses  falling  with  a  some- 
what monotonous  recurrence  at  the  end  of  the  line, 
lent  itself  to  that  clear,  terse,  and  epigrammatic 
manner  in  which  the  age  delighted.  Instead  of  the 
slow  evolution  of  the  Miltonic  sentence,  complex  in 
structure,  with  the  "  sense  variously  drawn  out  from 
one  verse  "  (i.  e.,  line)  "  to  the  next,"  we  have  sent- 
ences so  broken  up  and  packed  in  handy  packages  of 
two  lines  each,  that  one  can  snatch  up  a  couplet 
almost  anywhere,  and  carry  it  off  for  quoting  pur- 
poses. But  from  about  1726  the  sovereignty  of  the 
heroic  couplet  was  broken,  and  the  reviving  influence 
of  the  Elizabethan  poets  showed  itself  in  a  recurrence 
to  their  poetic  manner.  Lowell  has  aptly  dubbed 
Pope's  favorite  meter,  "the  rocking-horse  measure," 
and  doubtless  people  began  to  weary  of  the  monoto- 
nous regularity  of  its  rise  and  fall.  In  TJie  Seasons, 
Thomson  not  only  turned  to  nature,  he  abandoned 
the  heroic  couplet  for  blank  verse.  The  Spenserian 
stanza,*  which  had  been  discarded  except  by  a  few 
obscure  experimentalists,  grew  in  favor,  and  was 
employed  in  Shenstone's  Schoolmistress  (1742), 
Thomson's  Castle  of  Indolence,  Beattie's  Minstrel, 
and  in  a  number  of  minor  poems.  Meanwhile  Col- 
lins' Odes  marked  the  advent  of  a  poet  with  the  fresh, 
inborn  lyrical  impulse.  By  virtue  of  this  incom- 
municable gift  of  song,  Collins  mounts  above  the 

*  F.  Beers'  EnglisJi  Romanticism — XVIII.  Century,  chap, 
iii.,  and  the  chapter  on  the  Spenserian  revival,  in  Phelps'  Be- 
ginning of  the  English  Romantic  Movement;  also  Appendix  I. 
of  the  same  book,  for  list  of  Spenserian  imitators. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       273 

monotonous  levels  of  didactic  verse  that  stretch  about 
him.  Admirable  poetry  had  been  produced  in  Eng- 
land since  the  death  of  Milton,  but  its  excellence 
was  chiefly  of  a  kind  that  could  be  subjected  to  a 
critical  analysis  and  accounted  for.  The  means, 
rhetorical  or  otherwise,  employed  by  Dryden  and 
Pope  to  produce  a  given  effect  are,  to  a  great  extent, 
comprehensible  to  us,  while  we  applaud  the  result  as 
a  triumph  of  premeditated  art.  But  in  the  refined 
and  gentle  charm  of  Collins,  in  the  subdued  and 
softened  beauty  of  his  coloring,  and  the  lingering 
and  delicate  grace  of  his  lyrical  movements,  we 
encounter  excellence  of  a  wholly  different  order  ;  we 
are  aware  of  an  indefinable  poetic  quality  the  pres- 
ence of  which,  unlike  the  excellence  of  Pope,  can 
only  be  fully  recognized  by  the  artistic  sense,  inas- 
much as  it  is,  by  its  very  nature,  incapable  of  proof. 
Thomson  wrote  of  nature  with  surprising  minuteness 
and  accuracy,  but  Collins  with  the  inspired  touch 
of  a  higher  sympathy.  Swinburne  says  of  him  : 
"  Among  all  our  English  poets,  he  has,  it  seems  to 
me,  the  closest  affinity  to  our  great  contemporary 
school  of  French  landscape  painters.  Corot  on  canvas 
might  have  signed  his  Ode  to  Evening  •  Millet 
might  have  given  us  some  of  his  graver  studies,  and 
left  them,  as  he  did,  no  whit  the  less  sweet  for  their 
softly  austere  and  simply  tender  purity."* 

In  the  last  quarter  of  the  century  William  Blake 
(1757-1827)  holds  an  important  place  in  the  advance 
of  the  new  school  of  poetry.  This  singular  man, 

*  Critical  essay  in  Ward's  English  Poets,  vol.  iiL.  title 
'•Collins." 


274       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

richly  gifted  as  painter  as  well  as  poet,  was  eccentric 
to  the  very  verge  of  madness.  Indeed  most  of  his 
work  seems  to  hover  on  the  dubious  border-land 
between  insanity  and  reason,  yet  so  wonderful  is  it 
that  we  are  uncertain  whether  we  should  attribute 
its  strangeness  to  the  poet's  wildness,  or  to  our  con- 
ventional dullness  of  perception.  Nevertheless,  in 
certain  important  particulars,  Blake's  poetry  was 
strongly  expressive  of  the  tendencies  of  his  time. 
He,  too,  takes  up  again  the  interrupted  strain  of 
the  Elizabethans,  recalling  not  merely  their  disused 
meter,  but  their  gusts  of  passionate  intensity  and 
bold  flights  of  imagination.  Thus  the  spirited 
dramatic  fragment  Edward  III.*  is  instinct  with  the 
lavish  and  vaulting  energy  of  Marlowe,  f  On  the 
other  hand,  many  poems  of  Blake's  are  remarkable  for 
a  limpid  and  inspired  simplicity  which  made  him  the 
predecessor  of  Wordsworth.  In  his  love  of  children 
and  of  animals,  in  his  profound  sympathy  with  suffer- 
ing, in  his  lyrical  beauty,  and  in  his  feeling  for 
nature  he  represents  the  best  tendencies  of  his  time. 

While  in  literature  the  influence  of  the  Elizabeth- 
ans was  thus  overcoming  those  foreign  fashions  which 

for  a  time  had  superseded  it,  on  the  stage 
Garrick  and    .,  ,       .  ,.  ^i    i 

the  Shakes-    tne  greatest  productions  of  bhakespeare 

pearian  re-     were  being  brought  vividly  home  to  the 

popular  life  and  imagination.     Acting, 

like  literature  and  life,  threw  aside  some  of  its  burden 

*"  Blake  imitated  Spenser,  and  in  his  short  fragment  of 
Edward  III.  we  hear  again  the  note  of  Marlowe's  violent  imagi- 
nation."— Brooke's  Primer  English  Literature,  p.  165. 

f  According  to  Gilchrist  this  fragment  was  "printed  in 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITTRATURE       275 

of  stiffness  and  artificiality,  and,  after  the  conven- 
tional mannerisms  and  declamation  of  such  actors 
as  Macklin  and  Quin,  the  comparative  truth  and 
naturalness  of  Garrick  took  London  by  storm.  Gar- 
rick's  great  London  triumph  dates  from  his  perform- 
ance of  Richard  III.  at  Drury  Lane  in  1741,  after  he 
had  won  recognition  in  the  provincial  theaters.  His 
influence  on  the  popular  taste  may  be  conjectured 
from  the  fact  that  he  played  in  no  less  than  seven- 
teen Shakespearean  pavts,  and  produced  twenty-t'oi. 
of  Shakespeare's  plays  during  his  management  at 
Drury  Lnne.  Garrick  retired  in  1776. 

Mrs.  Siddons,  one  of  the  greatest  of  tragic  actresses, 
whose  Lady  Macbeth  and  Queen  Katherine  are 
among  the  proudest  traditions  of  the  English  stage, 
won  her  first  success  in  London  in  1782,  her  brother, 
John  Kemble,  appearing  the  following  year.  Through 
these  mighty  actors  the  stage  fell  in  with  and  helped 
forward  the  revolution  against  the  taste  and  standards 
of  the  critical  school. 

But  while  such  new  elements  were  coming  into 
English  life  and  verse,  we  must  remember  that  John- 
son and  others  continued  to  follow  doggedly  the  track 
of  Pope.  The  Seasons  preceded  London  by  thir- 
teen years,  and  Collins'  Odes  were  a  year  earlier  than 
The  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes  ;  yet  in  the  poetry  of 
Johnson  we  have  but  the  frigidity  and  didacticism 
of  Pope  without  his  lightness,  fancy,  or  grace,  and 
we  look  in  vain  for  Thomson's  feeling  for  nature  or 
Collins'  fresh  lyric  note. 

1783,  written   1768-1777."     Gilchrist's  Life  of  Blake,  vol  i. 
p.  26. 


276       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

That  deep  feeling  which,  as  the  eighteenth  century 
advanced,  impelled  men  to  turn  from  the  artificial 

_.  life  of  society  to  the  world  of  nature  was 

The  new  * 

sympathy  closely  associated  with  a  sympathetic 
with  man.  interest  in  the  hitherto  unregarded  lives 
of  the  country-folk  and  the  poor.  The  representa- 
tive writers  of  Queen  Anne's  time  had  despised  and 
satirized  humanity.  We  have  seen  Pope's  low  esti- 
mate of  it,  his  malice  toward  men,  his  ingrained  dis- 
belief in  women;  and  even  more  bitter  and  terrible 
is  the  corrosive  scorn  and  hatred  which,  as  in  Gulli- 
ver's Travels,  the  unhappy  Swift  pours  out  upon  the 
race.  But  in  the  new  group  of  writers  there  breathes 
that  growing  tenderness  for  the  miseries  of  the  neg- 
lected and  the  poor,  that  sympathy  for  all  living 
creatures,  and  that  ever-deepening  sense  of  the  no- 
bility of  man  and  of  the  reality  of  human  brother- 
hood, which  we  have  already  noted  as  a  motive  power 
in  the  history  of  the  time.  Gray's  Elegy  is  not 
merely  a  charming  rural  vignette,  it  is  the  poet's 
tribute  to  the  worth  of  obscure  and  humble  lives. 
The  Deserted  Village  is  an  indignant  protest  against 
the  wealth  and  luxury  which  encroach  upon  the 
simple  happiness  of  the  peasant,  and  in  such  lines  as 
these  we  hear  the  voice  of  the  new  democracy  : 

"  111  fares  the  land,  to  hastening  ills  a  prey, 
Where  wealth  accumulates  and  men  decay  ; 
Princes  and  lords  may  flourish  or  may  fade — 
A  breath  can  make  them  as  a  breath  has  made — 
But  a  bold  peasantry,  their  country's  pride, 
When  once  destroyed  can  never  be  supplied. "f 

*  The  Deserted  Village,  1.  51,  etc. 


THE  BEGINNING   OF  MODERN  LITEitATCKE       277 

Crabbe  brought  the  realism  of  the  earlier  part  of 
the  century  to  the  painting  of  the  homely  and  often 
repulsive  life  of  the  country  poor.  In  the  opening 
lines  of  The  Village  he  scorns  the  artificial  pastoral 
of  the  older  school,  and  declares 

"I  paint  the  cot 
As  Truth  will  paint  it,  and  as  Bards  will  not."* 

The  delight  in  nature,  the  renewed  religious  senti- 
ment, the  sympathy  with  man,  and  the  love  of  animals, 
all  find  expression  in  the  life  and  work  of  Cowper. 
Not  only  did  he  declare,  as  in  the  familiar  lines,  that 
"  God  made  the  country  and  man  made  the  town," 

but  he  lived  in  a  natural  harmony  with  God's  works, 
so  that  even  the  timid  hare  did  not  shun  his  footsteps 
nor  the  stock-dove  suspend  her  song  at  his  approach. 
His  gentle  nature  rises  in  indignation  against  cruelty, 
if  it  be  but  the  cruelty  of  the  man 

"  Who  needlessly  sets  foot  upon  a  worm," 

and  the  indifference  of  the  world  to  human  suffering 
shocks  and  distresses  him.  Timid  as  he  seems,  he 
cries  out  with  the  voice  of  the  on -coming  democracy 
against  "  oppression  and  deceit,"  against  slavery. 

"  My  ear  is  pained, 

My  soul  is  sick  with  every  day's  report 
Of  wrong  and  outrage  with  which  earth  is  filled. 
There  is  no  flesh  in  man's  obdurate  heart 
It  does  not  feel  for  man."  f 

This  new  sympathy  with  man  and  nature  is 
further  represented  by  the  artist-poet  William 

*  77/e  Village,  bk.  1.     See  the  entire  opening  passage, 
f  Tte  Task,  bk.  ii.  1.  5. 


278        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Blake  (1757-1827),*  and  by  Robert  Burns  (1759- 
1796)  until  it  culminates  in  the  poets  of  the  so- 
called  Lake  School,  William  Wordsworth  (1770- 
1850),  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge  (1772-1834),  and 
Robert  Southey  (1774-1843).  With  the  three  wri- 
ters last  named,  and  with  Sir  Walter  Scott,  who 
represents  a  phase  of  the  movement  of  which  we 
have  not  yet  spoken,  the  break  with  the  classical 
or  critical  school  of  Pope  becomes  complete.  This 
entire  movement  was  the  expression  in  England  of 
an  impulse  to  abandon  a  too  literal  and  subservient 
imitation  of  the  classic  writers  for  such  an  independ- 
ent expression  as  their  own  genius  prompted.  In 
Germany  a  like  movement  took  place  in  the  "  Sturm 
und  Drang  "  (Storm  and  Pressure)  school  of  Herder 
and  others  (in  1770-1782),  and  later  in  the  Romantic 
school  especially  distinguished  for  its  enthusiasm  for 
the  Middle  Ages.  A  corresponding  school  arose  in 
France  during  the  early  half  of  the  present  century, 
of  which  the  great  poet  was  Victor  Hugo,  the  great 
critic  Sainte-Beuve.  These  modern  or  anti-classic 
writers,  whether  in  Germany,  England,  or  France, 
are  styled  Romanticists,  or  writers  belonging  to  the 
Romantic  school.  By  Romantic,  used  in  this  tech- 
nical sense,  is  meant  the  distinctively  new  spirit,  in 
literature  or  art,  of  the  modern  world, 
Romantic*0  retying  mainly  on  itself  for  its  sub- 
jects, its  inspiration,  and  its  rules  of  art, 
and  denying  that  classic  precedents  are  in  all 
cases  of  binding  authority,  f  Thus  the  drama  of  the 

*  See  p.  273,  supra. 

f  For  elaborate  discussion  of  the  meaning  of  Romantic,  v. 
Phelps'  Beginning  of  the  English  Romantic  Movement. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE        279 

Elizabethans  is  often  called   the  English  Romantic 
drama,  because,  unlike   that  of  the  French,   it  dis- 
regarded certain  dramatic  principles  of  the  Greeks  ; 
while  Wordsworth,  Coleridge,  Scott,  and   the  other 
writers  of  that  group,  are  styled  Romantic,  because 
'  they  were  animated  by  a  modern  spirit,  because  they 
'  trusted  to  inspiration  rather  than  to  precedent,  and 
opposed  the  Classic  school  of  Pope. 

One  great  element  of  this  Romantic  movement, 
first  in  England  and  afterward  in  Germany,  was  a 
delight  in  the  popular  songs  and  ballads,  a  natural  and 
spontaneous  poetic  form  hitherto  ignored  as  outside 
the  bounds  of  literature.  The  English  and  Scottish 
ballads,  simple  and  genuine  songs  coming  straight 
from  the  hearts  of  the  people,  untinged  by  classic 
conventionality  and  unmodified  by  foreign  standards, 
were  collected  in  Bishop  Percy's  Reliques  of  Ancient 
English  Poetry  (1765).  After  this  many  similar  col- 
lections were  published,  and  about  this  time  poets 
began  to  reproduce  the  ballad  form.  The  most  note- 
worthy of  these  early  imitations  are  the  ballads  of 
Thomas  Chatterton  (1752-1770),  amazing  works  of 
genius  which  their  boy  author  pretended  to  have  found 
among  some  ancient  records  of  Bristol.  The  same 
tendency  is  shown  in  the  Ossian  of  James  Macpher- 
son  ^1762),  a  professed  translation  of  some  Gaelic 
epic  poems,  and  in  such  simple  ballads  as  Goldsmith's 
Hermit,*  Shenstone's  Jemmy  Dawson  (1745),  and 
Mickle's  Mariner's  Wife.  Coleridge's  Ancient  Mar- 

*  Goldsmith  was  accused  of  taking  the  idea  of  this  ballad 
from  "The  Friar  of  Orders  Gray"  (Percy's  Reliques) ;  which 
»x>peared  in  the  same  year  (1765).  He  claims  to  have  read 


280       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

iner  and  Christabel  are  a  noble  outcome  of  the  old 
ballad  literature,  and  from  it  also  sprang  the  best 
poetry  of  Walter  Scott. 

When  we  classify  and  arrange  all  these  stupendous 
changes  in  the  external  conditions  of  men's  lives,  and 

in  men's  mental  and  spiritual   estimate 
Summary.          /.  T  /•  »  • 

of  life  s  meaning  and  purpose,  the  great 

and  peculiar  place  of  the  eighteenth  century  in  his- 
tory begins  to  take  shape  in  our  minds.  We  see  that 
it  bears  a  relation  to  our  modern  civilization  similar 
to  that  which  the  fourteenth  century  held  to  the 
Renaissance.  Looked  at  from  the  external  or  mate- 
rial side,  we  are  able  to  feel  the  force  of  Mr.  Fred- 
eric Harrison's  words  :  "  Everyone  can  state  for 
himself  the  hyperbolic  contrast  between  the  material 
condition  we  see  to-day  and  the  material  condition 
in  which  society  managed  to  live  over  two  or  three 
centuries  ago,  nay,  ten,  or  twenty,  or  a  hundred 
centuries  ago.  .  .  The  last  hundred  years,"  that  is. 
since  about  1770  or  1780,  "  have  seen  in  England  thr 
most  sudden  change  in  our  material  and  external 
life  that  is  recorded  in  history."*  When  we  en- 
deavor to  grasp  this  transition  period,  not  only  exter- 
nally, but  from  every  side,  we  see  that  its  beginning 
dates  from  the  last  years  of  the  administration  of 
Walpole,  or  from  about  1730  or  1740.  To  that 
decade  we  have  referred  the  rise  or  growth  of  a  new 
spirit  in  religion,  politics,  literature,  and  even  music. 

The  Hermit  to  Bishop  Percy  before  the  publication  of  the 
"Friar." 

*  Essay  on  "The  Nineteenth  Century,"  in  The  Choice  of 
Books,  p.  424,  etc. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN   LITERATURE       281 

Its  close  is  marked  by  England's  entrance  upon  her 
long  struggle  with  France  for  the  prize  of  half  the 
world.  Between  1755  and  1765  we  place  those  im- 
provements in  transportation  and  manufactures,  we 
begin  the  "  industrial  revolution,"  and  at  the  end  of 
this  decade  Watt's  utilization  of  steam  adds  its 
tremendous  impetus  to  the  movement.  From 
about  this  time  the  advance  toward  democ- 
racy becomes  more  rapid  and  apparent.  We 
enter  the  era  of  a  bold  opposition  to  authority 
in  John  Wilkes  and  the  Letters  of  Junius;  of  the 
admission  of  reporters  to  the  House  of  Commons 
and  the  consequent  increase  in  the  power  of  the 
press  ;  of  the  American  and  French  revolutions,  and 
of  the  outburst  in  literature  of  the  revolutionary 
spirit.  Finally,  we  may  group  many  of  these 
changes  about  two  centers  :  (a)  that  longing  for  a 
more  simple  and  natural  life  and  the  revolt  against 
accepted  standards  which  accompanied  a  renaissance 
of  the  more  religious  and  ideal  elements  in  society  ; 
(b)  that  feeling  of  compassion  for  suffering,  that 
sense  of  the  worth  of  the  individual,  which  we  asso- 
ciate with  the  growth  of  democracy.  The  two 
great  historic  movements  of  the  century  define  them- 
selves as  : 

1.  The  expansion  of  England  into  a  world  power. 

2.  The  rise  of  democracy,  with  all  those  industrial 
and  social  changes  which  accompany  and  forward  it. 

The  effect  of  these  movements  on  literature  has 
been  great  in  the  past  and  is  likely  to  be  enormous 
in  the  future. 


282        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 
OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.— 1728-1774 

Goldsmith's  relation  to  the  literary  and  social 
movements  just  sketched  is  both  interesting  and 
important,  yet  so  greatf  is  the  purely  human  attrac- 
tion of  his  life  and  character  that  our  thoughts  in- 
stinctively turn  first  to  the  man  himself.  There  are 
few  men  in  the  annals  of  English  literature  with 
whom  we  have  a  greater  sense  of  companionship. 
His  very  "frailties,"  as  Dr.  Johnson  compassionately 
called  them,  his  heedless  extravagance,  his  harmless 
and  childlike  vanity,  but  stir  our  sympathies  and 
endear  him  to  us  the  more.  Blundering,  inconse- 
quent, and  pathetic  as  his  life  is,  it  is  illuminated  by 
a  purity  and  simple  goodness  of  nature  which  no 
hard  experiences  were  able  to  soil  or  impair.  Care- 
less for  himself,  he  cared — if  often  impulsively  and 
inconsiderately — for  others.  He  had  a  wonderful 
power  of  loving,  and  Thackeray  has  ventured  to  pro- 
nounce him  "  the  most  beloved  of  English  writers." 
To  know  and  love  Goldsmith  is  to  strengthen  our  own 
love  of  goodness ;  to  increase  our  confidence  in  human 
nature;  to  grow  more  gentle  and  pitiful  toward  weak- 
ness and  error.  Moreover,  to  know  Goldsmith  is  to 
increase  our  appreciation  of  lis  works,  for  his  works 
are  but  a  partial  expression  of  the  man  himself. 

Although  his  family  is  said  to  have  been  originally 
of  English  stock,  Oliver  Goldsmith  was  Irish  in  dispo- 
sition as  well  as  by  birth.  He  was  born 
Ireland  *n  November,  1728,  at  Pallas,  an  insignif- 
icant village  in  County  Longford,  remote 
from  the  main  highways  of  travel,  where  his  father, 


OLIVER     GOLDSMITH 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       283 

the  Rev.  Charles  Goldsmith,  was  curate.  When 
Goldsmith  was  about  two  years  old,  his  father  be- 
came rector  of  a  parish  in  Westmeath,  and  removed 
to  the  village  of  Lissoy,  in  the  southwestern  part  of 
that  county.  When  William  Howitt  visited  it,  in 
the  early  half  of  this  century,  Lissoy  consisted  "  of  a 
few  common  cottages  by  the  roadside,  on  a  flat  and 
by  no  means  particularly  interesting  scene,"*  yet  life 
there  seems  to  have  been  sturdy,  wholesome,  and 
good-humored.  Goldsmith  looked  back  to  its  placid 
pleasures  with  a  pathetic  fondness,  and  memories  of 
it  mingled  with  his  description  of  Auburn  in  The 
Deserted  Village. 

No  doubt  Goldsmith  grew  up  under  much  the 
same  conditions  as  those  of  thousands  of  his  contem- 
poraries. At  school  he  was  thought  "  impenetrably 
stupid,"  and  something — which  seems  to  have  stuck 
to  him  through  life — made  him  the  butt  of  his 
companions.  He  was  thickset  and  ugly,  his  face 
disfigured  by  an  early  attack  of  smallpox,  and  the  con- 
sciousness of  his  personal  defects  doubtless  increased 
the  shyness  and  morbid  sensitiveness  of  his  disposi- 
tion. Yet  his  ordinary  experiences,  and  the  kindly 
life  of  his  father's  simple  household,  gave  Goldsmith 
the  materials  for  enduring  works  of  art.  The  guile- 
lessness,  charity,  and  unworldliness,  which  draw  our 
hearts  toward  Dr.  Primrose  in  The  Vicar  of  Wake- 
field,  were  characteristic  of  the  Goldsmith  family,  as 
they  were  of  Goldsmith  himself,  and  it  is  beautiful  to 
think  that  this  kindliness,  which  took  no  thought  for 
the  morrow,  should  at  length  have  come  to  have  its 
*  Haunts  and  Homes  of  British  Poets :  "  Goldsmith." 


284       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

share  in  the  creation  of  some  of  the  most  perfect  and 
lovable  characters  in  the  literature.  In  after  years, 
Goldsmith's  eai'ly  recollections  of  his  father  were 
embodied  in  his  description  of  the  "  preacher,"  in  The 
Deserted  Village,  the  man  who  "  ran  his  godly  race," 
'''remote  from  towns,"  "more  bent  to  raise  the 
wretched,  than  to  rise  ";  they  entered  into  his  sketch 
of  "  The  Man  in  Black  "  in  The  Citizen  of  the  World, 
and  above  all,  they  found  a  yet  fuller  expression  in 
The  Vicar  of  Wakefield* 

At  seventeen  Goldsmith  entered  Trinity  College, 
Dublin,  as  a  "sizar,"  or  free  scholar.  At  this  time 
the  "  sizars"  were  virtually  part  student,  part  servant, 
and  Goldsmith  suffered  many  humiliations  which 
his  sensitive  nature  found  it  hard  to  endure.  Here 
he  was  idle  and  fond  of  pleasure,  and  spent  much 
time  in  playing  on  the  flute.  After  his  graduation 
in  1749  he  returned  to  the  country  to  wander  in  easy 
aimlessness  from  the  bouse  ol  one  relative  to  another, 
while  his  family  were  debating  what  was  to  be  done 
Edinb  r  h  w^tn  n^ra-  In  1V52,  one  of  his  relatives 
and  the  having  declared  that  he  would  "  make  a 
Continent.  good  medical  manj»  },e  left  for  Edin- 
burgh to  study  medicine.  Becoming  restless,  after 
about  eighteen  months,  he  embarked  for  a  tour  on 
the  Continent,  with  the  ostensible  purpose  of  con- 
tinuing his  studies.  Here  he  led  a  wandering  life, 
learning  little  medicine,  but  gaining  that  knowledge 

*  Of.,  also,  the  character  of  Honey  wood  in  The  Good- 
natured  Man.  As  an  instance  of  the  impression  left  by  early 
recollections  see  Goldsmith's  tribute  to  his  brother  Henry  in 
T*e  Traveller. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       285 

of  European  countries  which  he  was  to  make  use  of 
in  77ie  Traveller.  "When  he  left  Leyden  he  wandered 
with  his  flute  through  the  country  districts  of  Flan- 
ders, France,  and  Switzerland,  playing  "  merry 
tunes "  that  often  set  the  peasants  dancing  and 
gained  him  food  and  lodging.  In  Italy,  where  the 
musical  taste  seems  to  have  been  too  exacting  for  his 
powers,  he  is  supposed,  like  the  wandering  scholars 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  to  have  gained  a  dinner  and 
a  bed  by  disputing  on  questions  of  philosophy  at  the 
universities  and  convents.  After  a  year  of  this 
strolling  life  he  landed  in  England  in  1756,  with  no 
prospects  and  with  a  fe\v  half-pence  in  his  pocket. 

On  arriving  in  London  Goldsmith  was  face  to  face 
with  the  problem  of  keeping  himself  alive.  He  is 
supposed  to  have  been  usher  in  a  school  ; 
he  \vas  an  apothecary's  assistant,  but  JjJJjJJ1*11  in 
gave  up  the  place  to  invest  in  a  second- 
hand velvet  coat  and  set  up  as  a  medical  practitioner. 
At  last,  driven  by  his  necessities,  he  became  a  book- 
seller's drudge.  He  labored  anonymously  at  what- 
ever task  was  set  him  until,  in  1759,  he  published 
under  his  own  name  his  Enquiry  into  the  State  of 
Polite  Learning  in  Europe.  From  this  time  until 
his  death  Goldsmith's  life  was  chiefly  given  up  to 
task-work  for  the  publishers,  interspersed  with  those 
masterpieces  which  are  the  more  spontaneous  utter- 
ances of  his  genius.  In  spite  of  his  desultory  edu- 
cation and  lack  of  exact  learning,  he  had  great 
qualifications  for  success  ;  a  varied  experience,  fine 
powers  of  observation,  a  sympathetic  nature,  and 
above  all,  a  style  of  extraordinary  ease  and  charm. 


286       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEEATUBB 

He  did  foolish  things,  but  often  wrote  wise  ones, 
Bhowing  on  paper,  as  in  many  places  in  The  Citizen 
of  the  World,  a  breadth  and  justness  of  thought 
with  which  he  is  not  always  credited.  After  the 
publication  of  the  Enquiry  his  fortunes  gradually 
improved.  In  1761  he  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Dr.  Johnson,  who  became  his  literary  friend  and 
helper.  The  appearance  in  1760  of  The  Citizen  of 
the  World  added  to  his  reputation,  which  was  still 
further  increased  by  the  publication  of  his  first  im- 
portant poem,  The  Traveller ',  in  1764.  He  was  taken 
into  the  exclusive  literary  circles,  and,  with  Johnson, 
Reynolds,  and  Burke,  was  one  of  the  original  mem- 
bers of  the  Literary  Club.  As  his  expenses  continu- 
ally outran  his  earnings,  his  writing  consisted  largely 
of  work  done  to  order.  He  was  neither  a  historian 
nor  a  naturalist,  yet  he  wrote  histories  of  Rome, 
Greece,  and  England,  which  won  great  popularity, 
and  a  book  on  Natural  History.  The  secret  of  the 
success  of  these  works  was  their  charm  and  attract- 
iveness of  style.  His  epitaph  in  Westminster  Abbey 
declares  that  he  touched  nothing  he  did  not  adorn. 
"  He  is  now  writing  a  Natural  History,"  said  Johnson, 
"and  he  will  make  it  as  agreeable  as  a  Persian  tale.'* 
Yet  it  is  on  work  of  another  class  that  his  reputation 
really  rests.  From  time  to  time  he  turned  from  his 
drudgery  to  add  a  classic  to  literature — his  idyllic 
Vicar  of  Wakefield  (1766),  The  Good-natured  Man 
(1768),  The  Deserted  Village  (1770),  and  She  Stoops 
to  Conquer  (1773).  These  works  brought  him  fame, 
but  he  was  continually  worried  by  money  difficulties, 
and  toward  the  last  the  strain  told  even  on  his  easy 


;  THE  BEGINNING  Of  MODERN  LITERATURE       287 

going  and  buoyant  temperament.  In  the  midst  of 
the  worries,  gayeties,  and  honors  of  his  life  in 
London,  Goldsmith's  thoughts  would  go  back  long- 
ingly to  the  peaceful  and  sheltered  obscurity  of  Ids 
early  village  life.  Such  feelings  seem  to  have 
prompted  many  passages  in  The  Deserted  Village. 
In  fair  Auburn  he  sees  Lissoy  again  as  through 
a  golden  mist  of  distance,  and  he  confides  to  us 
his  desire  to  return  after  all  his  wanderings  and  his 
"  long  vexations  "  and  "  die  at  home  at  last."  His 
life  was  to  have  no  such  peaceful  close  ;  his  "  vexa- 
tions "  only  thickened  about  him  toward  the  last. 
Overwhelmed  by  debts,  worried  by  creditors,  strug- 
gling to  the  last  to  free  himself  of  his  burdens  by  his 
pen,  he  was  seized  at  forty-six  with  illness.  His  last 
words  were  an  admission  that  his  mind  was  not  at 
rest.  He  died  in  April,  1774,  owing  two  thousand 
pounds — a  big  bill  at  his  tailor's  among  the  rest ;  but 
let  us  remember,  too,  that,  when  he  lay  dying,  the 
staircase  leading  to  his  room  was  filled  with  poor 
outcasts  whom  he  had  befriended. 

When  we  reflect  upon  the  erratic  and  ill-ordered 
character  of  Goldsmith's  life,  and  upon  the  amount 
of  hackwork  that  he  was  forced  to  do  to 
pay  for  his  luxuries  or  quiet  the  de- 
mands  of  importunate  creditors,  we  are 
astonished  at  the  high  excellence  he  actually  attained 
in  many  departments  of  literature.  He  takes  high 
rank  among  the  essayists  of  his  century;  he  gave 
us  two  of  the  most  charming  poems  written  in  Eng- 
land in  his  generation  ;  he  infused  into  the  novel  a 
new  sweetness  and  purity,  producing  in  The  Vicar 


288       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

of  WaJcefield  a  kind  of  prose-pastoral  which  Carlyle 
pronounced  "the  best  of  all  modern  idyls";  and 
finally,  in  his  two  comedies,  The  Good-natured 
Man  and  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  he  not  only  made 
a  lasting  contribution  to  literature,  but  led  a  reaction 
against  a  less  natural  and  more  sentimental  school  of 
comedy  and  helped  to  make  a  new  era  in  the  history 
of  the  English  drama.  This  wide  range  of  Gold- 
smith's best  work  connects  him  closely  with  many  of 
the  most  important  literary  movements  which  were 
going  on  about  him.  When  he  entered  upon  his 
work,  England  had  already  begun  to  escape  from 
the  ascendency  of  Pope,  and  evidences  of  that  wide- 
spread national  change  which  has  been  before  de- 
scribed, were  yeai'ly  inci'easing.  Yet  during  the 
fifteen  years  of  Goldsmith's  literary  activity,  from 
1759  to  1774,  his  friend  Johnson,  who  stood  upon  the 
ancient  ways,  was  the  literary  autocrat  of  London. 
The  work  of  Goldsmith  stands  midway  between  the 

,-.     ,       .     writers  of  the  new  school  and  of  the  old, 
His  place  in  ' 

literary  his-  belonging  wholly  to  neither,  sharing  in 
tory'  the  qualities  of  both,  and,  in  some  cases, 

admirably  illustrating  the  transition  from  the  one  to 
the  other.  Thus  in  The  Bee,  a  series  of  short  essays 
which  originally  appeared  in  periodical  form,  he  is 
one  of  the  many  followers  of  Addison  and  Steele.  In 
The  Citizen  of  the  World,  supposed  to  be  the  corre- 
spondence between  a  Chinese  philosopher  on  a  visit 
to  England  and  his  friend  at  home,  the  divergence 
from  the  Spectator  slightly  widens.  Finally,  in  The 
Vicar  of  Wakefield,  Goldsmith  leaves  the  essay  for 
the  novel  and  thus  exemplifies  a  transition  whidh  was 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       289 

an  important  feature  in  the  literary  history  of  his 
century.*  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield  lies  close  to  the 
new  rural  spirit  of  its  time,  and  may  be  „_,  _. 
appropriately  contrasted  with  The  Rape  ofWake- 
of  the  Lock.  It  is  of  the  country,  as  field> " 
Pope's  masterpiece  is  of  the  town.  Goldsmith 
preaches  virtue,  simplicity,  and  contentment ;  Pope 
displays  the  world  of  fashion,  extravagance,  and  arti- 
fice. In  Goldsmith's  story  the  air  is  fresh  and  whole- 
some ;  the  misanthropy  of  Pope  and  Swift  is  left 
behind,  and,  as  "Walter  Scott  declared,"  we  bless  the 
memory  of  an  author  who  contrives  so  well  to 
reconcile  us  to  human  nature."  In  their  spirit  Gold- 
smith's two  most  famous  poems,  The  Traveller  and 
Tlie  Deserted  Village,  are  close  to  the  new  literary 
and  social  England,  but  in  form  they  continue  the 
heroic  couplet  of  the  older  school.  The  fact  is  sig- 
nificant of  Goldsmith's  genera!  relation  to  the  history 
of  English  poetry;  he  filled  the  old  bottles  with  new 
wine.  The  Traveller,  indeed,  retains  some  of  the 
didactic  flavor  of  the  older  school,  but  it  sets  us  in  the 
midst  of  a  wide  expanse  of  nature,  it  looks  down  on 
the  nations  from  the  mountain-peak,  and  bids  us  real- 
ize that  the  inequalities  in  the  lot  of  man  are  less  great 
than  we  suppose.  The  poem  shows  that  cosmopoli- 
tan temper,  rare  in  the  insular  English,  which  is 
remarkable  in  The  Citizen  of  the  World. 

In  The  Deserted  Village  the  new  spirit  is  yet  more 

apparent.     We  are  in  a  world   that  Pope  knew  not, 

or  else  cared  not  to  depict ;  the  little  contracted  world 

of  the  village,  where  life,  if  narrow,  is  simple,  nat 

*  See  p.  213.  supra. 


290       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

ural,  and  happy.     There  the  preacher  and  the  school- 
master fill  a  large  place  ;  there  too  are   those  rollick- 
„_,    D          ing  country  sports,  in  which   Goldsmith 
sertedVil-      himself  once  loved  to  share.     The  pic- 
kge."  ture  may  be  partly  an  ideal  one,  yet  the 

description  is  full  of  details,  suggested  by  actual 
experiences,  which  give  to  the  whole  an  astonishing 
solidity  and  reality.  There  may  not  have  been  such 
a  village  in  the  British  Isles,  but  Auburn  exists  for 
us  in  the  world  of  art.  In  IS  Allegro,  Milton  invested 
rural  England  with  a  softened  and  poetic  charm. 
Herrick  gave  us  a  glimpse  of  Yuletide  frolics,  and 
of  merry  countryfolk  among  the  hawthorn  hedge- 
rows of  May  Day  ;  but  Goldsmith's  Auburn  is  more 
than  a  beautiful  idyllic  fancy  ;  it  is  a  deliberate 
protest  against  the  oppression  of  the  poor,  against 
luxury  and  the  evils  which  follow  in  its  train.* 
Although  Goldsmith's  life  was  hardly  in  accordance 
with  his  doctrine  ;  although  he  loved  to  trick  out  his 
homely  person  with  finery, — too  often,  alaa  !  unpaid 
for, — he  seems  to  have  had  at  heart  a  longing  for 
that  "  plain  living "  that  Wordsworth  was  not  to 
preach,  merely,  but  to  practice.  Two  things  were 
mingled  in  his  life  as  in  his  art;  he  is  a  follower  of 
the  earlier  England,  yet  belongs  by  nature  to  that 
newer  England  that  was  near  at  hand.  His  place  in 
literature  is  not  the  highest,  but  it  is  secure.  He 
did  not  compete  for  the  greatest  prizes,  but  what 
he  attempted  he  accomplished,  and  the  things  that 
he  did  best  could  hardly  be  done  better.  His  ideals 
are  sweet  and  wholesome  ;  his  humor  gracious  and 
*  Of.  what  is  said  of  these  two  poems  on  p.  271,  supra,. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       291 

free  from  malice  ;  bis  work  full  of  ease  and  natural- 
ness, and  pervaded  by  an  indefinable  and  enduring 
grace  and  charm. 

STUDY  LIST 
GOLDSMITH 

1.  The  latest  and  fullest  collection  of  Goldsmith's  poetical 
works  is  by  J.  W.  M.  Gibbs,  Bell's  edition,  5  vols.  (1884-1886). 

The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  edited  -with  introduction  and  notes 
by  Mary  A.  Jordan  (Longmans'  English  Classics) ;  the  above 
is  also  in  an  edition  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.,  with  short 
introduction  on  Goldsmith's  literary  style. 

The  Deserted  Village  and  The  Traveller;  Rolfe's  edition 
(Harpers')  with  admirable  introduction  and  notes. 

She  Stoops  to  Conquer;  a  cheap  school  edition  is  published  by 
The  Cassell  Publishing  Co. 

2.  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.— Prior's  Life  of  Goldsmith  is 
full  and  reliable;  but  a  later  Life  by  J.  Forster  has  largely  taken 
its  place,  and  is  generally  recognized  as  the  standard  biography. 
De  Quincey  has  reviewed  the  first  edition  of  Forster's  Life 
(Masson's  De  Quincey,  vol.  iv.).     This  article  is  largely  occupied 
with  an  interesting  discussion  of  the  position  of  the  author  and 
the  state  of  society  in  Goldsmith's  time.     The  Life  by  Washing- 
ton Irving  is  rendered  fascinating  by  the  ease  and  charm  of  the 
author's  style.     Life  by  Sir  Walter  Scott  in  Lives  of  the  Novel- 
ists.    The  best  brief  Life  is  that  by  Austin  Dobson  in  Great 
Writers  Series  (this  includes  bibliography.)    There  is  also  a  Lift 
by  William  Black  in  English  Men  of  Letters  Series.     The.fi'n- 
cydopcedia,  Britannica,   ninth    edition,    contains    Macaulay's 
"  Essay  on  Goldsmith  ";  see,  also,"  Goldsmith,"  in  Thackeray't 
English  Humorists  ;  article  in  Literary  Anecdotes,  by  Nichols, 
vol  iii. ;  and  Haunts  and  Homes  of  British  Poets^  by  Howitt 


2»2        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 
EDMUND    BUBKE. — 1729-1797 

Five  years  before   Goldsmith  settled  in  London 

after  bis  wanderings  on  the  Continent,  another  young 

Irishman,  Edmund  Burke,  had   come   to 

Gold  mith      ^ie  caP*tal>  to  begin  there  an  even   more 

memorable   career.     It  is  interesting  to 

study  the  lives  of  these  two  men  together,  for,  while 

in  many  ways   they   were   widely  different,  Burke's 

broad  relation  to  the  political  movements  of  the  time 

is  similar  to  that  which  Goldsmith  holds  toward  its 

literary  history.     Like  Goldsmith,  Burke  represents 

a  time  of  transition,  belonging  both  to  the  old  order 

and  to  the  new.     More  than  he  realized,  he  helped 

forward  the  political  changes  which  marked  his  time, 

yet  one  of  his  strongest  feelings  was  his  reverence 

for  the  past. 

Edmund  Burke  was  the  son  of  a  Dublin  attorney, 
and  was  born  in  that  city  in  1729.  He  entered 

Trinity  Collesre,  Dublin,  at  fourteen,  two 
Burke's  life.  *  JL*          .' 

years  before  Goldsmith,  who  was,  it  will 

be  remembered,  about  a  ye&r  his  senior.  In  1750, 
after  taking  his  bachelor's  degree,  Burke  came  up  to 
London  and  began  the  study  of  the  law.  He  after- 
ward expressed  great  respect  for  the  law  as  a  science 
and  means  of  mental  discipline,  but  from  his  boyhood 
he  had  showed  a  fondness  for  literature,  writing 
verses  at  college,  and  being  pursued  with  what  he 
called  the  furor  poeticus.  His  interest  in  literarj 
matters,  when  legal  studies  were  supposed  to  be  hi 
first  object,  so  displeased  his  father,  who  was  high 
tempered  and  bent  on  seeing  his  son  a  barrister,  that 


THE  BEGINNING  Of  MODERN  LITERATURE       293 

he  cut  off,  or  greatly  reduced,  Burke's  allowance. 
Thus  in  or  about  1755,  the  year  before  Goldsmith 
began  his  battle  with  London,  Burke  was  left  to  push 
his  own  way  in  a  city  which  was  none  too  kindly  a 
nurse  to  struggling  authors.  We  know  little  of  the 
details,  for  Burke  maintained  a  dignified  reserve  in 
regard  to  his  early  struggles,  but  we  know  the  diffi- 
culties and  the  results.  "I  was  not,"  he  said  after- 
ward, "...  swaddled,  and  rocked,  and  dandled  into 
a  legislator.  Nitor  in  adversum  is  the  motto  for  a 
man  like  me." 

Burke's  career  as  an   author  began    in  1756  with 
the  publication  of  a  cleverly  written  essa\r,  A  Vindi* 
cation   of  Natural  Society,  followed  in 
the   same  year  by  A  Philosophical  In-     Ca"eras 
quiry  into   the    Origin  of  our  Ideas  of 
the  Sublime  and  Beautiful.     The  first  purports  to  be 
a   posthumous    publication  of   Pope's   friend,    Lord 
Bolingbroke,  and   is  a  skillful  imitation  of   Boling- 
broke's  manner.     The  arguments  its  supposed  author 
had   advanced   against   revealed    religion    are    here 
employed  against  the  organization  of  society,  with 
the  intention  of  showing  that  as  they  are   obviously 
unsound   in  the  political  sphere,  they  are  equally  so 
in  the  religious.     Both  of  these  works  show  promise, 
but  neither  is  among  Burke's  greatest  efforts. 

Launched  into  authorship,  Burke  naturally  began 
to  take  his  place  in  the  literary  life  about 
him.     He  met  Johnson  and  his  followers,      Lit;cratnf.e 

Una  politics* 

and  when  the  Literary  Club  was  started, 

in   1764,  was  one  of  its  founders.*     Meanwhile  his 

studies  were  turning  from  purely  literary  and  artistic 


294       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

matters  to  history  and  the  existing  problems  of 
society  and  government.  The  changed  direction  of 
.Ms  thoughts  is  shown  by  the  publication  of  a  work 
on  the  settlement  of  America,  and  of  an  Annual 
Jtegister  of  the  most  important  public  events  of  each 
year  (1759-1788).  Such  work  was  an  admirable 
preparation  for  a  successful  Parliamentary  career. 
In  1765  Burke  definitely  entered  politics  by  becoming 
secretary  to  Lord  Rockingham,  who  had  just  suc- 
ceeded Grenville  as  Prime  Minister.  The  difficulty 
with  the  American  Colonies  was  one  of  the  gravest 
questions  the  new  ministry  had  to  face,  and  Burke, 
who  had  obtained  a  seat  in  the  House  of  Commons 
(1765),  won  immediate  distinction  by  a  speech  on  the 
repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act.  It  was  the  beginning  of  a 
long  and  impressive  public  career,  extending  over 
nearly  thirty  years.  It  was  a  period  to  call  out  the 
full  powers  of  an  orator,  the  wisest  judgment  of 
a  statesman.  The  people  were  restive  under  the 
arbitrary  rule  of  George  III.,  and  the  contest  over 
the  right  of  Wilkes  to  a  seat  in  Parliament  showed 
that  Parliament  itself  was  rather  an  instrument 
of  tyranny  than  a  safeguard  of  liberty.  In  these 
years  India  was  won,  America  was  lost ;  Warren 
Hastings  was  impeached  for  misgovernment  of  India 
in  one  of  the  most  imposing  and  dramatic  trials  in 
English  annals  ;  the  French  Revolution  was  begun, 
and  Europe  witnessed  the  Reign  of  Terror.  On 
nearly  every  one  of  these  subjects  Burke  has  given 
us  a  masterpiece.  The  troubled  times  of  John 
Wilkes  were  the  occasion  of  his  Thoughts  on  the 
Present  Discontents  (1770),  a  restrained  and  well-rea- 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODEBN  LITERATURE       295 

soned  discussion  of  the  dangers  which  then  threat- 
ened English  liberty.  It  warns  men  that  arbitrary 
power  may  disguise  itself  under  the  very  «  xhouehts  on 
forms  of  free  government,  and  that  the  Present 
a  Parliament  which  has  become  the  Di8content8'" 
servant  of  the  king  instead  of  the  representative  of 
the  people,  is,  in  fact,  an  instrument  of  servitude. 
The  clear  perception  of  the  truth  that  liberty  lies 
deeper  than  laws  and  institutions  is  characteristic  of 
Burke's  power  to  strip  off  the  formal  and  conven- 
tional, and  lay  hold  of  the  vital  truth.  The  dispute 
with  America  called  forth  three  of 

Burke's  best  speeches,  in  which  he  was    Speeches  on 

America. 

one  of  the  greatest  supporters  of  the  Col- 
onists. In  his  S&eech  on  Conciliation  with  America, 
perhaps  ih^  finest  of  the  three,  he  brushes  away  the 
legal  question  of  the  right  of  England  to  tax  the 
Colonies,  and  rests  the  argument  on  the  broader 
ground  of  expediency  and  common  sense.  The  legal 
right  to  do  a  certain  thing  does  not  prove  that  the 
thing  should  be  done.  "  The  question  with  me  is 
not  whether  you  have  a  right  to  render  your  people 
miserable,  but  whether  it  is  not  your  interest  to  make 
them  happy."* 

An  English  statesman  and  critic  goes  so  far  as  to 
say  that  these  speeches  of  Burke  on  American  affairs 
"  are  almost  the  one  monument  of  the  struggle  on 
which  a  lover  of  English  greatness  can  look  with 
pride."f  Burke's  advocacy  of  liberty  in  the  rising 

*  Conciliation  with  America;  Burke's  works, 
f  John  Morley  ;  article  on  Burke  in  Encyclopaedia  Britan 
nica,  ninth  edition- 


296       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

colonies  of  the  West  was  followed  by  his  champion- 
ship  of  justice  and  humanity  in  the  newly-won  depen- 
dency of  India.  In  the  trial  of  Warren 
HaTtines  Hastings  before  the  House  of  Lords,  the 
burden  of  the  impeachment  rested  mainly 
on  Burke.  He  declared  that  "  the  cause  of  Asia  " 
was  "  being  tried  in  the  presence  of  Europe  ";  and 
there  is  a  breadth  and  largeness  in  his  treatment 
which  lifts  us  to  the  height  of  that  great  argument. 
We  feel  that  it  is  even  more  than  the  cause  of  Asia  ; 
it  is  the  cause  of  that  new  humanity  which  was 
growing  stronger  in  the  England  of  Burke's  time. 
These  distant  Orientals,  whose  wrongs  and  sufferings 
had  been  unknown  or  unregarded,  were  thus  brought 
into  the  range  of  the  nation's  imagination  and  sym- 
pathy. They  too  were  men,  with  men's  rights,  and 
Burke  impeached  Hastings  in  the  name  of  the  "  eter- 
nal laws  of  justice  which  he  had  violated,"  and  "  of 
human  nature  itself."* 

On  these  three  great  occasions  Burke  was  on  the 
side  of  liberty  and  justice  ;  but  with  a  genuine  devo- 
tion to  what  he  called  "  a  well-regulated 
°n"  lioerty>"  he  was  by  nature  a  conservative, 
with  an  innate  veneration  for  the  British 
Constitution  and  a  love  and  reverence  for  the  past. 
John  Morley  has  said  that  Burke  believed  in 
government  for  the  people,  but  not  by  the  people. 
The  overthrow  of  social  order  by  the  revolution  in 
France,  its  violence,  its  abstract,  and,  as  he  thought, 
visionary  doctrine  of  human  rights,  shocked  and 
alarmed  him,  and  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Revolution, 
*  Opening  speech,  fourth  day. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       297 

he  threw  the  full  force  of  his  vast  powers  into 
a  book — Reflections  on  the  Revolution  in  France 
(1790) — which  remains  as  one  of  the  literary  monu- 
ments of  the  time.  While  Burke  could  not  see  far 
enough  to  discern  the  ultimate  outcome  of  the  Revo- 
lution, he  detected,  as  many  enthusiasts  about  him 
failed  to  do,  the  signs  of  weakness  and  disaster,  and 
foretold  that  failure  which,  to  him,  was  its  only 
apparent  consequence.  "  Believe  me,  sir,"  he  wrote, 
"  those  who  attempt  to  level  never  equalize."  He 
looked  back  upon  the  cherished  ideals  and  institu- 
tions of  historic  Europe,  and  felt  that  their  very 
existence  was  hanging  in  the  balance.  "  People," 
he  declared,  "  will  not  look  forward  to  posterity 
who  never  look  back  to  their  ancestors."  In  the 
insults  offered  to  the  beautiful  and  unhappy  Marie 
Antoinette  he  saw  the  signal  of  the  death  of  chiv- 
alry. "  The  age  of  chivalry  is  gone.  That  of  soph- 
isters,  economists,  and  calculators  has  succeeded  ; 
and  the  glory  of  Europe  is  extinguished  forever."  * 

The  conclusion  of  the  trial  of  Hastings  in  1794 
was  followed  by  Burke's  retirement  from  Parliament. 
In  the  same  year  he  was  prostrated  by  the  death  of 
his  son,  a  blow  from  which  he  never  fully  recovered. 
His  grief  utters  itself  in  words  that  read  like  the 
lament  of  David  over  Absalom.  "  The  storm  has 
gone  over  me.  .  .  I  am  alone.  .  .  I  have  none 
to  meet  my  enemies  in  the  gate.  .  .  They  who 
ought  to  have  succeeded  me  are  gone  before  me." 
Burke's  health  was  broken,  but  in  his  Letters  on 

*  For  all  these  passages  v.  Burke's  Reflection*  on  the  French 
Revolution. 


298       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

a  Regicide  Peace  (1796-1797),  written  almost  in  the 
presence  of  death,  he  declaimed  with  impassioned 
and  almost  frantic  energy  against  any  truce  with 
France,  which  he  called  a  "  pretended  republic  of 
murderers,  robbers,  and  atheists."  He  solemnly  de- 
clared that  his  words,  though  they  might  have  the 
weakness,  had  at  least  the  sincerity  of  a  dying 
declaration.  He  died  soon  after,  at  his  country- 
place  at  Beaconsfield,  July  9,  1797. 

The  fame  of  the  man  of  letters  and  that  of  the 
Burke  as  a    statesman,  the  orator,  or  even  the  politi- 
man  of          cal   writer,  are  usually  entirely  distinct, 
letters.          Even  a  great  writer's  permanent  place 
in  literature  is  seldom  based  on  his  contributions  to 
contemporary  politics,  however  effective  and  popular 
they  may  have  been  at  the  time.     To  this  Burke  is 
a  singular  exception.     Nearly  all  his  works  are  polit- 
ical, while    his  few  contributions  to  other  subjects 
'  have  made  no  material  addition  to  his  fame.     He  is, 
'  perhaps,  the  only  great  English  statesman  who  is 
recognized  as  a  great  author  because  of  the  perma- 
nent value  and  literary  interest  of  his  political  writ- 
ings   and    speeches    alone.     To    some    degree    this 
striking  fact  may  be  due  to  the  historic  importance 
and  the  dramatic  interest  of  many  of  the  subjects 
with  which  Burke's  genius  was  engaged.     It  is  due, 
moreover,  to  the  fact  that  Burke  brought  to  the  dis- 
cussion of  these  subjects  distinctly  literary  gifts  and 
a  feeling  for  style  which  made  him  one  of  the  great 
masters  of  English  prose.     He  was  capable  of  re- 
strained,   lucid,    and    dispassionate    argument    and 
exposition,  as  in  the  Thoughts  on  the  Present  Discon- 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       299 

tents,  and  of  gorgeous  descriptions  or  passionate 
outbursts  of  pathos  or  denunciation.  The  majestic 
flow  of  his  eloquence,  with  its  full,  rounded  sen- 
tences, gives  to  some  of  his  orations  an  epic  volume 
and  grandeur.  In  this,  and  in  the  beauty  and 
variety  of  his  historical  and  literary  allusions,  Burke 
seems,  in  his  loftiest  moods,  a  prose  Milton.  The 
tribute  to  Marie  Antoinette,*  the  description  of 
the  destruction  of  the  Carnatic  by  Hyder  Ali  ;  f 
the  picture  of  the  ambassadors  of  Europe  waiting 
to  present  their  suit  for  peace  to  the  "  bloody 
ruffian  Carnot  ";  J  such  passages  are  celebrated  in  the 
history  of  English  prose  style.  But  beyond  all  this, 
the  enduring  fiber  in  Burke's  writings  lies  in  their 
philosophic  thought.  In  his  treatment 

of  current  politics  he  is  not  merely  the     A*Politlcal 

J  thinker, 

orator,  the  poet,  the  master  of  style  ;  he 

is  pre-eminently  the  thinker,  able  to  rise  above 
purely  contemporary  interests.  He  was  the  reverse 
of  a  political  theorist,  but  he  combined  with  a  quick 
eye  for  the  immediate  and  practical  exigencies  of 
a  situation  a  profound  insight  into  the  principles  on 
which  the  foundations  of  society  rest.  His  works 
are  rich  in  a  political  wisdom,  in  maxims  and  ob- 
servations that  reach  far  beyond  the  particular  exist- 
ing conditions  which  called  them  forth.  Particular 
cases  are  viewed  in  the  light  of  some  general  truths, 
and  become  illustrations  of  those  secret  forces  which 
produce  and  sustain  the  social  order.  Hence  Burke 

*  Reflections  on  the  French  Revolution. 
f  Speech  on  the  Nabob  of  Arcot't  Debt*, 
t  Letters  on  a  Regicide  Peace,  I. 


300       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

has  been  called  the  greatest  thinker,  with  the  single 
exception  of  Bacon,  "  who  has  ever  devoted  himself 
to  the  practice  of  English  politics."  * 


STUDY  LIST. 
EDMUND  BURKE 

1.  A  convenient  edition  of  Burke's  Select  Works,  with  intro- 
duction and  notes  by  E.  J.  Payne  (3  vols.),  will  be  found  in 
the  Clarendon  Press   Series.    This  edition  contains :  vol.  i. 
"  Thoughts  on  the  Present  Discontents  ; "  "  Speech  on  Amer- 
ican Taxation;"   "On  Conciliation  with  America."  vol.  ii. 
"  Reflections  on  the  French  Revolution."  vol.  iii.  "  Letterson 
a  Regicide  Peace."    Certain  speeches  of  Burke's,  e.  g.,  those 
on  America,  have  been  frequently  published  separately  for 
school  or  college  use. 

2.  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.     Prior's   Life  of  Burke  (2 
vols.,  Bohn's  British  Classics)  is  considered  the  best  of  the 
longer  lives.     John  Morley's  Burke,  English  Men  of  Letters 
Series,  is  admirable  and  suggestive,  as  also  is  his  Burke,  an 
Historical  Study,  which  enters  more  fully  into  Burke's  political 
position.     Buckle's    History  of  Civilization   in  Europe    con- 
tains interesting  references  to  Burke  ;  Leslie  Stephen's  History 
of  English  Thought  in  the  Eighteenth  Century  (vol.  ii.  223-242). 


ROBERT   BURNS. — 1759-1796 

The  soul  of  the  New  England,  its  moving  tender- 
ness, its  breadth  of  charity,  its  deepening  notes  of 
lyric  passion,  throb  in  the  songs  of  the  Scotch  plow- 
man, Robert  Burns.  The  lives  and  struggles  of  the 

*  Buckle's  History  of  Civilization  in  Europe,  chap.  vil. 


ROBERT     BURNS 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       301 

mass  of  men  that  toiled  and  died  about  him  were 
utterly  outside  the  range  of  Pope's  narrow  sympa- 
thies and  understanding  ;  his  genius  lights  up  for  us 
only  that  fashionable,  frivolous,  or  literary  world  in 
•which  he  moved,  leaving  all  without  in  darkness. 
The  scholarly  Gray  had  written  of  the  poor  with 
refinement  and  taste,  surrounding  them  with  a  cer- 
tain poetic  halo  ;  but  Burns  spoke  not  about,  but  for 
them,  by  his  birthright  and  heritage  of  poverty  and 
labor.  The  young  democracy  hurrying  on  the  day 
through  the  labors  of  Brindley,  the  mechanic  ;  Har- 
graves,  the  poor  weaver,  or  Watt,  the  mathematical 
instrument  maker's  apprentice,  finds  its  poet-pi'ophet 
in  a  farmer's  boy  of  the  Scotch  lowlands.  The 
natural  music,  the  irresistible  melody  of  Burns' 
songs,  was  learned  not  from  the  principles  of  literary 
lawgivers,  but  from  the  songs  of  the  people.  In 
their  captivating  lilt,  their  rich  humor,  their  note  of 
elemental  passion,  is  revealed  the  soul  of  the  peasant 
class.  "  Poetry,"  wrote  the  great  poet  who  preached 
a  little  later  the  superiority  of  inspiration  to  artifice, 
"  poetry  comes  from  the  heart  and  goes  to  the 
heart."*  This  is  eminently  true  of  the  poetry  of 
Burns,  whose  best  songs  have  that  heartfelt  and 
broadly  human  quality  which  penetrates  where  more 

Q 

cultured  verse  fails  to  enter,  and  which  outlasts  the 
most  elaborate  productions  of  a  less  instinctive  art. 
Burns  himself  assures  us  : 

"  The  Muse,  nae  Poet  ever  fand  her, 
Till  by  himsel'  he  learned  to  wander, 

*  William  Wordsworth. 


302       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Adown  some  trotting  burn's  meander, 

An'  no  think  lang  : 
O  sweet,  to  stray  an'  pensive  ponder 

A  heart-felt  sang."  * 

Born  out  of  his  own  experience,  Burns'  poems  are 
racy  of  the  soil,  as  frankly  local  in  subject  as  in  dia* 
lect.  He  is  not  ashamed  to  paint  the  homely  and 
everyday  aspects  of  the  life  about  him,  and  he  does 
this  with  a  boldness  and  freedom  which  mark  genius 
of  an  independent  and  original  power.  "  The  rough 
scenes  of  Scottish  life,  not  seen  by  him  in  any 
Arcadian  illusion,  but  in  the  rude  contradiction,  in 
the  smoke  and  soil  of  a  too  harsh  reality,  are  still 
lovely  to  him  .  .  .  and  thus  over  the  lowest  prov- 
inces of  man's  existence  he  pours  the  glory  of  his 
own  soul."  \  The  family  group,  after  their  week  of 
toil,  gathered  in  patriarchal  simplicity  about  the 
cotter's  hearthstone  ;  the  blazing  ingle  of  the 
country  tavern,  where  the  drunken  cronies,  "  victori- 
ous o'er  all  ills,"  sing  their  jolly  catches,  oblivious  of 
the  storm  without,  or  the  wrathful  wife  at  home  ; 
the  current  controversy  between  the  Auld  and  New 
Lichts  in  the  Kirk  ;  a  wounded  hare,  or  a  flock  of 
startled  water-fowl  ;  such  are  the  homely  material* 
ready  to  his  hand,  from  which  his  poems  are  fash- 
ioned. We  find  in  them  that  high  gift  which  can- 
not be  gained  by  a  study  of  any  Art  of  Poetry,  of 
seeing  with  a  fresh  and  penetrating  insight.  For 
while  in  one  sense  Burns'  poems  are  local,  they  are 

«  "  To  William  Simpson." 
fCarlyle,  "  Essay  on  Burns." 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       303 

Bone  the  less  for  all  the  world,  so  instinctively  does 
he  fasten  upon  those  features  of  the  life  about  him 
which  best  reflect  in  little  some  general  human 
experience,  and  so  appeal  to  the  common  heart  of 
mankind.  The  spirit  of  Tarn  o'  Shanter,  defying  care 
and  the  morrow,  is  the  spirit  of  Sir  Toby  in  Twelfth 
Night,  rousing 

"  the  night  owl  with  a  catch." 

Set  to  a  more  heroic  key, it  is  that  of  Antony  when 
he  exclaims,  while  the  sword  hangs  over  him  : 

"  Come, 

Let's  have  one  other  gaudy  night :  call  to  me 
All  my  sad  Captains  :  till  our  bowls  once  more. 
Let's  mock  the  midnight  bell."  * 

And  more,  what  is  this  but  an  expression  of  that 
imperative  desire  to  snatch  the  present  joy  which,  in 
greater  or  smaller  measure,  is  in  us  all.  The  poet 
who  can  look  through  the  vesture  in  which  life 
clothes  itself,  and  find  beneath  the  abiding  human 
significance,  who  can  enter  into  and  immortalize  those 
elements  of  pleasure,  pain,  and  passion  which  make 
the  substratum  of  our  human  comedy,  that  poet  has 
shown  us  the  universal  in  the  local. 

Robert  Burns,  the  son  of  a  small  farmer  in  Ayr- 
shire, was  born  January  25,  1759.  His  family  were 
poor,  so  that  Burns  could  get  but  little  regular  edu- 
cation, and  remained  "  a  hardworked  plowboy." 
Through  all  his  labor  he  was  a  great  reader,  having 
a  ballad  book  before  him  at  meal  times  and  whistling 

*Antony  and  Cleopatra,  act  iii.  scene  2. 


304        INTEODrCTION  TO  ENGLISH   LITERATURE 

the  songs  of  Scotland  while  guiding  the  plow.  On 
the  death  of  his  father  in  1784,  Robert  and  his 
brother  and  sisters  took  a  farm  together,  but  it 
proved  unprofitable.  By  this  time  he  had  written 
numerous  songs,  and  had  gained  by  them  considera- 
ble local  reputation.  His  affairs  were  so  involved 
that  lie  thought  of  leaving  the  country,  but  changed 
his  mind  on  receiving  an  invitation  from  a  D». 
Blacklock,  who  had  heard  of  his  poetical  ability,  to 
visit  Edinburgh.  At  Edinburgh,  Burns,  with  his 
genius  and  flavor  of  rusticity,  his  massive  head  and 
glowing  eyes,  became  the  reigning  sensation.  In 
1788  he  leased  a  farm  in  Dumfriesshire,  married 
Jean  Armour,  and  spent  one  of  his  few  peaceful  and 
happy  years.  In  1789  he  was  appointed  exciseman, 
that  is,  the  district  inspector  of  goods  liable  to  a  tax. 
From  this  time  the  habit  of  intemperance  gained  on 
him.  His  health  and  spirits  failed,  and  spells  of 
reckless  drinking  were  followed  by  intervals  of 
remorse  and  attempted  recovery.  His  genius  did 
not  desert  him,  and  some  of  his  best  songs  were  com- 
posed during  this  miserable  time.  He  died  July  21, 
1796,  worn  out  and  prematurely  old  at  thirty-seven, 
one  of  the  great  song  writers  of  the  world. 

In  spite  of  those  weaknesses  which  cut  off  a  life 
"  that  might  have  grown  full  straight,"  Burns'  poetry 
is  unmistakably  the  utterance  of  a  sincere,  large- 
hearted,  and  essentially  noble  nature,  pleasure-loving 
and  full  of  laughter  as  a  child,  yet  broken  by  a  man's 
grief  ;  a  nature  with  more  than  a  woman's  tenderness 
and  with  the  poet's  soul  quivering  at  the  throb  of 
pain. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE        305 

"  Still  thou  art  blest,  compared  wi'  me. 
The  present  only  toucheth  thee ; 
But  och  !  I  backward  cast  my  e'e 

On  prospects  drear  ! 
An'  forward,  tbo'  I  canna  see, 
I  guess  and  fear." 

Here  in  the  midst  of  the  lingering  affectations  of 
the  time  vibrates  the  anguish  of  Burns'  lyrical  cry, 
quivering  with  the  unmistakable  accent  of  human 
suffering.  This  is  the  universal  language  of  passion 
not  to  be  learned  in  the  schools.  Hence  Burns'  love 
songs,  from  the  impassioned  lyric  flow  of  "My  Luve 
is  Like  a  Red,  Red  Rose,"  or  "  O,  Wert  Thou  in  the 
Cauld  Blast,"  to  the  quiet  anguish  of  "  Ae  Fond 
Kiss  and  then  We  Sever,"  or  the  serene  beauty  of 
"To  Mary  in  Heaven,"  are  among  the  truest  and 
best  in  the  language. 

In  "The  Cotter's  Saturday  Xight,"  as  we  enter 
the  dwelling  and  identify  ourselves  with  the  daily 
life  of  the  poor,  we  feel  for  ourselves  that  touch  of 
brotherhood  which  in  other  poems  it  is  Burns'  mis- 
sion to  directly  declare.  Never  perhaps  since  Lang- 
land's  Piers  Plowman  has  the  complaint  of  the  poor 
found  such  articulate  expression. 

"  See  yonder  poor,  o'erlabored  wight, 
So  abject,  mean,  and  vile. 
Wbo  begs  a  brother  of  the  earth 
To  give  him  leave  to  toil ; 
And  see  his  lordly  fellow- worm 
The  poor  petition  spurn, 
Unmindful  though  a  weeping  wife 
And  helpless  offspring  mourn." 


306        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  1ITEKATUBE 

When  Burns  wrote  that 

"  Man's  inhumanity  to  man 
Makes  countless  thousands  mourn,*" 

he  expressed  what  thousands  were  coming  to  feel ; 
when  he  wrote 

"  A  king  can  make  a  belted  knight, 

A  marquis,  duke,  and  a'  that ; 
But  an  honest  man's  aboon  his  might, 
Quid  faith  he  maunna  fa'  that, 

For  a'  that,  and  a'  that, 

Their  dignities  and  a'  that, 
The  pith  o'  sense  and  pride  o'  worth 

Are  higher  ranks  than  a'  that," 

he  gave  to  the  world  the  greatest  declaration  in 
poetry  of  human  equality  and  the  glory  of  simple 
manhood.  But,  like  that  of  Cowper,  Burns'  com- 
prehensive sympathy  reaches  beyond  the  circle  of 
human  life.  He  stands  at  the  furrow  to  look  at 
the  "tim'rous"  field-mouse,  whose  tiny  house  his 
plow  has  laid  in  ruins,  and  his  soul  is  broad  enough 
to  think  of  the  trembling  creature  gently  and  hum- 
bly as  his 

"  Poor  earth-born  companion 
An'  fellow-mortal." 

Like  Byron,  he  was  a  poet  of  the  revolution,  but  he 
distinguished  more  clearly  than  Byron  between  the 
shams  and  conventionalities  which  he  attacks,  and 
that  which  was  enduring  and  worthy  of  reverence. 
Merciless  and  daring  in  his  satire  upon  the  cant  and 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  UTERATURE        307 

hypocrisy  of  those  who,  as  he  thought,  used  religion 
as  a  cloak  for  wickedness,  he  had  himself  a  deeply 
reverential  and  religious  nature  which  never  con- 
fused the  abuse  of  the  thing  with  the  thing  abused.* 
He  is  the  poet  of  nature  as  well  as  of  man  ;  he  would 
make  the  streams  and  burnies  of  Scotland  shine  in 
verse  with  the  Ilissus  and  the  Tiber,  and 

"  Sing  Auld  Coila's  plains  and  fells  ; " 

and  finally  in  his  stirring  songs  of  Bannockburn 
he  is  the  poet  of  patriotic  Scotland.  "  Lowland 
Scotland,"  it  has  been  said,  "  came  in  with  her  war- 
riors and  went  out  with  her  bards.  It  came  in  with 
William  Wallace  and  Robert  Bruce,  and  went  out 
witli  Robert  Burns  and  Walter  Scott.  The  first  two- 
made  the  history  ;  the  last  two  told  the  story  and 
sung  the  song." 

STUDY  LIST 
BUENS 

I.  "The  Cotter's  Saturday  Night;"   "Tarn  o'  Shanter;" 
"  The  Twa  Dogs  ;"  "  The  Brigs  of  Ayr." 

II.  SYMPATHY  WITH  NATURE  AND  ANIMALS,  "  To  a  Moun- 
tain Daisy;"  "To  a  Mouse  on  Turning  up  her  Xest  with  a 
Plough  ;"  "On  Scaring  some  "Water-fowl  in  Loch  Turit ; " 
"  On  Seeing  a  Wounded  Hare  Limp  by  Me." 

III.  "  Address  to  the  Deil ;  "  "  Address  to  the  Unco'  Guid." 

IV.  SONGS.—"  O  Wert  Thou  in  the  Cauld  Blast ;  "  "John 
Anderson,   My  Jo  ;  "  "To  Mary   in   Heaven  ;  "  "  Highland 
Mary;"  "Ye  Banks  and  Braes  o' Bonnie  Doon  ;  "   "Flow 

*  V.  Epistle  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  McMath,  verse  v,  "  They  tak* 
religion  in  their  mouths."  and  the  one  following. 


308       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Gently.  Sweet  Afton;"  "O,  My  Luve's  like  a  Red,  Red 
Rose  ; "  "  Scots  Wha  Hae  wi'  Wallace  Bled  ;  "  "Is  there  for 
Honest  Poverty  ;  "  "  Macpherson's  Farewell." 

V.  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM. — Carlyle's  Essay  on  Burns  ; 
Shairp's  Aspects  of  Poetry,  p.  179  ;  Shairp's  Life  of  Burns, 
Professor  Blackie's  Life  of  Barns;  v.  also  poems  on  Burns  by 
Wordsworth  and  by  Whittier.  A  notable  recent  edition  of 
the  poems  is  the  Centenary,  edited  by  Henley  and  Henderson. 

*  The  Task,  Bk.  v.     The  passage  should  be  read  in  class. 
f  Coleridge,  "  Prance,  An  Ode." 


WILLIAM    WORDSWORTH. 1770-1850 

Toward  the  close  of  tlie  eighteenth  century  we 
reach,  in  the  French  Revolution,  the  most  stormy 
and  critical  period  in  the  history  of  modern  Europe. 
Toward  this  consummation  Europe  had  been  rapidly 
moving.  Poet  and  philosopher  had  gone  before  it, 
while  to  the  toiling  masses,  starved,  overtaxed, 
oppressed,  the  burden  was  becoming  intolerable. 
Now,  during  the  early  acts  of  that  terrible  drama,  the 
cloud-land  visions  and  lofty  speculations  of  poet  and 
philosopher,  looking  for  the  coming  of  a  Golden  Age 
of  peace  and  brotherhood,  seemed  to  many  to  be 
passing  out  of  the  region  of  speculation  into  the 
world  of  substantial  fact.  Cowper  in  The  Task  had 
cried  on*,  against  the  Bastile  as  a  shameful  "house  of 
bondage  "  ;  *  four  years  later  it  fell  before  the  fury  of 
a  Parisian  mob  (1789).  Then 

"  France  her  giant  limbs  upreared, 
And  with  that  oath  which  smote  earth,  air,  and  sea. 
Stamped  her  strong  foot  and  said  she  would  be  free."f 

iLurope  looked  on  breathless,  as  the  whole  glittering 
fabric  of  French  feudalism,  rotten  at  the  base,  sud- 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITEEATURE       309 

denly  crashed  into  ruin.  The  ancient  barriers  of 
custom  and  authority  were  swept  away  as  in  a  night ; 
the  floods  were  out  ;  the  Revolution  begun.  Blake 
walked  the  streets  of  London  wearing  the  red 
cockade  of  the  revolutionists,  and  the  passionate 
hopes  for  the  future  of  the  race  broadened  far 
beyond  the  old  national  limits,  to  embrace  the  whole 
family  of  man.  Even  the  great  statesman  Pitt 
sympathized  with  the  Revolutionists,  and  Fox  is  said 
to  have  exclaimed,  on  hearing  of  the  destruction  of 
the  Bastile,  "  How  much  is  this  the  greatest  event 
that  ever  happened  in  the  world,  and  how  much  the 
best ! "  Edmund  Burke,  indeed,  stood  aloof  from 
the  rest,  a  solitary  and  impregnable  tower  of  conserva- 
tism, and  in  Edinburgh  the  young  Walter  Scott,  whose 
intense  sympathy  with  that  chivalric  past  was  to 
revive  its  glories  in  the  pages  of  poetry  and  romance, 
looked  on  at  the  fury  of  demolition  with  characteris- 
tic disapproval.  But  for  the  most  part  the  hopes  of 
youth,  and  of  all  the  ardent  and  enthusiastic  spirits  of 
the  time,  went  out  toward  the  revolutionists  in  a  great 
torrent  of  exultation.  The  imagination  of  the  youth- 
ful poets  William  Wordsworth,  Samuel  Taylor  Cole- 
ridge, and  Robert  Southey,  all  in  the  impressionable 
years  of  opening  manhood  when  the  Revolution  began, 
was  fired  by  the  idea  that  the  world  was  being  made 
anew.  They  trod  the  earth  in  rapture,  their  eyes 
fixed  upon  a  vision  of  the  dawn.  Looking  back  upon 
this  time  one  of  their  number  wrote  : 

"  Bliss  was  it  in  that  Dawn  to  be  alive, 
But  to  be  young  was  very  heaven."* 

*  Wordsworth,  The  Prelude,  bk.  xl. 


310       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

A  spirit  of  change  was  in  the  air  which  showed 
itself  in  many  ways.  In  England  it  expressed  itself 
in  a  more  positive  reaction  against  much  that  was 
hollow  and  artificial  in  the  life  and  literature  of  an 
earlier  time.  The  longing  for  something  natural 
and  genuine  became  the  master  passion  of  the  new 
leaders  of  thought.  Not  only  does  the  new  love  of 
nature  and  of  man  inspire  the  poetry  of  Wordsworth 
and  of  Coleridge,  they  are  the  leaders  of  a  deliberate 
attack  on  the  artificial  poetic  manner  exemplified  in 
the  poetry  of  Pope.  Wordsworth  came  determined 
to  destroy  the  old  "  poetic  diction  "  and  set  up  a 
simpler  and  truer  manner  in  its  stead.  Another  but 
later  expression  of  this  longing  for  what  is  genuine 
is  found  in  the  works  of  the  great  prose  writer 
Thomas  Carlyle  (1795-1881),  who  fiercely  denounced 
all  "  shams,"  railed  against  the  eighteenth  century 
as  an  era  of  fraud  and  unbelief,  and  preached  that 
men  "  should  come  back  to  reality,  that  they  should 
stand  upon  things  and  not  upon  the  shows  of  things." 
In  these,  and  in  many  similar  ways,  the  period  at 
which  we  have  now  arrived  was  an  era  of  revolution. 
In  many  spheres  of  thought  and  action  the  old  order 
was  changing,  yielding  place  to  new. 

William  Wordsworth,  one  of  the  great  leaders  in 

this  era  of  change,  was  born  April  7,  1770,  at  Cocker^ 

mouth,  a  little  village  on  the  river  Der- 

William         Went  in  the  county  of  Cumberland.     His 
Wordsworth.  J 

father,    the    law    agent   to    Sir    James 

Lowther,  was  descended  from  an  ancient  family  of 
Yorkshire  landowners,  while  his  mother's  ancestors 
had  been  among  the  landed  gentry  of  Cumberland 


THE  BEGINNING   OF  MODERN  LITERATURE        311 

since  the  reign  of  Edward  III.  On  both  sides, 
therefore,  the  poet  came  of  a  family  stock  deeply 
rooted  in  the  country  soil,  and  he  may  well  have 
inherited  from  this  long  line  of  provincial  ancestors 
that  sympathy  with  the  country,  and  with  the  simple 
incidents  of  country  life,  which  is  a  principal  ferment 
in  his  verse.  Cumberland,  a  singularly  lovely  region 
of  lake  and  mountain,  was  then  far  more  remote  than 
at  present  from  the  activities  of  the  outside  world. 
Wordsworth  was  gifted  with  a  wonderful  suscepti- 
bility to  natural  beauty,  and  the  serenity  and  grandeur 
of  his  early  surroundings  entered  deep  into  his  life 
to  become  the  very  breath  of  his  being.  In  his  daily 
companionship  with  nature  he  seems  to  have  felt  at 
first  a  kind  of  primitive  and  unreasoning  rapture,  to 
be  changed  in  later  years  for  a  more  profound  and 
conscious  love.  His  more  regular  education  was 
obtained  at  Hawkshead  School,  in  Lancashire,  and 
at  Cambridge.  But  college  and  the  fixed  routine  of 
college  studies  failed  to  touch  his  enthusiasm,  and 
he  is  said  to  have  occupied  himself  before  coming  up 
for  his  degree  in  reading  Richardson's  novels.  He 
graduated  in  1791,  but,  as  may  be  supposed,  without 
having  distinguished  himself.  On  leaving  Cam- 
bridge he  spent  some  months  in  visiting  London  and 
elsewhere,  finally  crossing  to  France,  where  he  caught 
the  contagion  of  republicanism,  and  was  on  the 
point  of  offering  himself  as  a  leader  of  the  Girondist 
party.  His  relations,  alarmed  for  his  safety,  stopped 
his  supplies,  and  in  1792  lack  of  money  compelled 
his  return.  On  reaching  England  he  found  himself 
with  no  profession  and  without  definite  prospects. 


312        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

After  th^ee  years  in  this  unsettled  condition  he  was 
unexpectedly  placed  beyond  actual  want  by  a  timely 
legacy  of  £900  from  his  friend  Raisley  Calvert,  who 
had  discerned  in  Wordsworth  the  promise  of  future 
greatness,  and  who  wished  to  make  him  free  to  pursue 
his  chosen  career.  Shortly  before  this  he  had  made 
his  first  public  ventures  in  poetry  (An  Evening  Walk, 
1793  ;  Descriptive  Sketches,  1793).  After  the  receipt 
of  Calvert's  legacy  he  took  a  cottage  at  Racedown 
in  Dorsetshire  with  his  devoted  sister  Dorothy, 
resolved  to  dedicate  himself  to  poetry.  From  this 
time  Wordsworth's  life  was  of  the  most  studiously 
simple,  severe,  and  uneventful  description,  an  example 
of  that  "  plain  living  and  high  thinking  "in  which 
he  believed.  It  was  lived  close  to  nature,  in  the 
circle  of  deep  home  attachments,  and  in  the  society 
of  a  few  chosen  friends,  but  it  resembled  that  of 
Milton  in  its  solemn  consecration  to  the  high  service 
of  his  art,  and  in  its  consistent  nobility  and  loftiness 
of  tone.  Leaving  RaceJown  in  1797,  Wordsworth 
settled  at  Alfoxden,  near  Nether  Stowey,  Somerset- 
shire, where  his  genius  rapidly  developed  under  the 
stimulating  companionship  of  his  friend  Coleridge. 
Here  the  two  poets  worked  together,  and  in  1798 
published  the  Lyrical  Ballads,  a  collection  of  poems 
to  which  each  contributed.  This  work,  by  its  delib- 
erate departure  from  the  outworn  poetic  manner, 
marks  an  era  in  the  history  of  English  poetry.  It  is 
in  his  preface  to  the  second  edition  of  this  work 
(published  1800)  that  Wordsworth  made  his  famous 
onslaught  upon  the  school  of  Pope,  declaring,  among 
other  things,  that  poetry  was  not  to  be  made  by  rules. 


THE  BEGINNING   OF  MODERN  LITERATURE        313 

but  that  it  was  "  the  spontaneous  overflow  of  power- 
ful feelings."  After  this  Wordsworth  worked 
steadily,  holding  to  his  own  notions  of  poetry  in 
epite  of  the  ridicule  of  the  critics  and  the  neglect  of 
the  body  of  readers.  In  the  winter  of  1798-1799  he 
visited  Germany.  On  his  return  he  settled  in  West- 
moreland, in  the  Lake  District,  living  tirst  at  Grasinere 
(1799-1813),  and  finally  removing  to  Rydal  Mount. 
In  1802  he  married  his  cousin  Mary  Hutchinson,  also 
a  native  of  Cumberland.  Miss  Hutchinson,  like 
Wordsworth's  beloved  sister  Dorothy,  had  a  rare 
appreciation  of  poetry.  He  had  thus  the  devotion 
and  sympathy  of  two  gifted  women,  both  capable  of 
entering  into  his  finest  emotions  and  aspirations. 
The  poet,  his  wife,  and  sister  thus  lived  in  an  ideal 
and  beautiful  companionship,  unfortunately  but  too 
rare  in  the  lives  of  men  of  genius.  Wordsworth's 
remaining  years  were  passed  at  Rydal  Mount,  except 
when  his  tranquil  existence  was  broken  by  short 
journeys  on  the  Continent  or  elsewhere.  As  he 
advanced  in  life  his  work  won  its  way  in  the  public 
favor.  He  was  made  Poet  Laureate  in  1843,  and 
died  peacefully  April  23,  1850,  as  his  favorite  clock 
struck  the  hour  of  noon. 

As  a  poet    Wordsworth    was    surpassingly    great 
within  that  somewhat  restricted  sphere  which  he  has 

made  peculiarly  his  own.     He  is  deficient 

,. '  Wordsworth 

in  a  sense  of  humor,  he  possesses   but  agapoet. 

little  dramatic  force  or  narrative  skill, 
and  he  fails  in  a  broad  and  living  sympathy  with  the 
diverse  passions  and  interests  of  human  life.     These 
limitations  will  always  tend  to  make  him  the  poet  of 


314       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  appreciative  few.     To  him,  indeed,  his  own  words 
are  strikingly  applicable  : 

"  He  is  retired  as  noontide  dew, 

Or  fountain  in  a  noonday  grove  ; 
And  you  must  love  him,  ere  to  you 
He  will  seem  worthy  of  your  love."  * 

Yet  he  is  as  truly  the  poet  of  the  mysterious  world 
we  call  nature,  as  Shakespeare  is  the  poet  of  the  life 
of  man.  He,  more  than  all  other  poets,  teaches  us  to 
enter  into  that  world  and  find  in  it  the  very  temple 
of  God,  in  which  and  through  which  He  himself  will 
draw  close  to  us. 

For  Wordsworth's  mystical  rapture  in  the  presence 
of  the  living  world  is  very  different  from  a  merely 
sensuous  or  aesthetic  delight  ;  it  is,  in  his  highest 
moods,  a  profoundly  religious  emotion.  In  the  inten- 
sity of  his  contemplation,  his  own  being  is  lost  in  the 
flood  of  universal  life  "  that  rolls  through  all  things," 
and  in  an  ecstasy  of  aspiration  he  is  "  laid  asleep  in 
body  and  becomes  a  living  soul."  f  Such  a  mood, 
unintelligible  to  more  phlegmatic  and  commonplace 
natures,  is  characteristic  of  those  in  whom  the  appre- 
hension of  ideal  or  spiritual  things  is  exceptionally 
strong.  Plato  or  Plotinus,  the  passive  Brahmin  of 
the  East,  or  the  German  Tauler,  seeks,  each  in  his 
own  fashion,  to  erect  himself  above  himself  by  an 
ecstasy  of  thought  or  emotion.  "By  ecstasy,"  said 
Plotinus,  "  the  soul  becomes  loosened  from  its  material 
prison,  separated  from  individual  consciousness,  and 
becomes  absorbed  into  the  Infinite  Intelligence  from 

*  "  A  Poet's  Epitaph." 

f  "  Lines  on  Revisiting  Tintern  Abbey." 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODEBN  LTTEBATUKE        315 

which  it  emanated."  Now  to  Wordsworth  the  path 
of  escape  from  the  "  material  prison,"  the  avenue  of 
access  to  the  "Infinite  Intelligence,"  lay  through 
communion  with  the  informing  life  in  Nature.  His 
assurance  that  the  universe  was  not  a  mechanical 
contrivance,  like  a  huge  piece  of  clockwork,  whose 
motive  power  was  law,  but  a  something  divinely  alive, 
is  the  basis  alike  of  his  poetry  and  his  philosophy. 
This  seemingly  stolid  countryman,  with  somewhat 
the  aspect  of  a  benignant  farmer,  recognizes  the 
presence  of  a  sentient  life  in  brook  and  flower,  with 
the  poetic  apprehension  of  the  Greek  in  the  dewy 
morning  of  the  world.  He  teaches  that  if  we  will 
but  pause  in  our  perpetual  quest,  and  let  Nature  work 
her  will  on  us,  active  influences,  at  work  within  her, 
will  go  out  to  us. 

"  Nor  less  I  deem  that  there  are  powers, 
Which  of  themselves  our  minds  impress, 
That  we  can  feed  this  mind  of  ours 
In  a  wise  passiveness."* 

In  accord  with  this  is  Wordsworth's  reiterated 
teaching  that  nature,  and  the  deep  joy  in  nature, 
is,  or  should  be,  the  great  formative  influence  in  tlie 
life  of  man.  If  in  youth  man  lies  on  the  lap  of  his 
great  Earth-Mother,  something  passes  into  his  life 
which  later  experience,  and  the  worldliness  which 
may  come  with  years,  can  never  "  utterly  abolish  or 
destroy."!  It  seemed  to  Wordsworth  that  the  secret 
of  life  was  to  hold  fast  youth's  generous  emotions, 
its  high  imaginings,  its  deep  fountains  of  joy,  as  an 

*  "  Expostulation  and  Reply." 

t  "  Ode  on  Intimations  of  Immortality." 


316       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

antidote  to  the  deadening  and  contaminating 
influences  of  the  world.  He  believed  that  it  was 
by  a  consistent  fellowship  with  nature  that  this 
precious  conservation  of  our  high  emotions  could  best 
be  accomplished.  To  see  again  in  age  some  aspect  of 
nature  which  sank  deep  into  the  soul  in  youth  ;  to 
hear  again  in  age  that  cry  of  the  cuckoo  which 
enchanted  us  in  boyhood,  is  to  revive  our  youthful 
rapture,  and  "  beget  that  golden  time  again."  *  Thus 
a  "natural  piety,"  binding  our  days  each  to  each,f 
should  inoculate  us  against  the  contagion  of  the  world. 
Wordsworth  celebrates  the  beauty,  harmony,  and 
sublimity  of  nature  ;  he  is  fortified  by  its  calm  and 

its     unbroken    order  ;     sustained    with 
Limitations  ,     ,  ,         A,  •    -, 

ofWords-       eternal     hopes    by    the    unwearied    rv- 

worth's          newal     of    the     vernal    earth,   by     the 

"  cheerful  faith  "  that  "  a11  which  we  be- 
hold  is  full  of  blessings."  J  But  Nature 
is  not  all  a  May  day;  she  has  a  harsh  and  terrifying 
side,  of  whic'i  Wordsworth  was  apparently  oblivious. 
He  is  silent  as  to  her  mysterious  discords  of  pain, 
•cruelty,  and  death.  So  far  as  we  can  tell  he  is  unim- 
pressed by  any  feeling  of  her  magnificent  indiffer- 
ence to  man.  To  this  extent  his  poetry  of  nature  is 
partial  and  incomplete.  Nevertheless,  in  this  very 
incompleteness  lies  one  source  of  Wordsworth's  tran- 
quilizing  and  uplifting  power.  We  are  refreshed 
and  sanctified  by  the  very  unreservedness  of  his  con- 
viction that  the  whole  world  is  but  the  temple  of  the 
living  God.  Of  all  the  poets  who  in  the  eighteenth 

*  "  Lines  to  the  Cuckoo/'  f  "  The  Rainbow  " 

t  "  Lines  on  Revisiting  Tintern  Abbey." 


THE   BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       317 

century  came  to  lead  a  rouged  and  tired  generation 
of  intrigue  and  scandal  back  to  that  mother-world  to 
which  they  had  become  as  strangers,  Wordsworth 
proved  himself  the  greatest  and  most  inspired  guide. 
The  murmur  of  the  Derwent,*  the  clouds  gathered 
about  the  setting  sun,  the  splendors  of  lonely  dawns, 
the  solitude  of  mountain  peak  and  lake  and  forest, 
all  these  things  had  been  his  world,  and  consciously 
and  unconsciously  the  amplitude  and  sublimity  oiT 
that  world,  extending  inimitably  about  us  in  its  large 
patience  and  inscrutable  repose,  possessed  and  en- 
larged his  soul.  His  life  rises  to  the  dignity  of  a 
great  example,  because  it  is  so  outwardly  ordinary 
and  so  inwardly  exceptional  ;  because  he  showed  us 
how  to  make  a  new  use  of  those  familiar  sources  of 
joy  and  comfort  which  lie  open  to  all  who  have  eyes 
to  see  and  ears  to  hear.  His  life  was  severely  simple, 
yet  the  world  was  his,  even  as,  up  to  the  measure  of 
our  power  of  receiving,  we  may  make  it  ours.  It  is 
this  serene  and  noble  simplicity  of  Wordsworth's  life 
and  character  that  sheds  over  certain  of  his  poems 
an  indescribable  and  altogether  incomparable  charm 
Such  short  lyrics  as  "  The  Solitary  Reaper,"  the 
poems  to  "Lucy  "  or  "The  Primrose  of  the  Rock," 
are  filled  with  that  characteristic  and  magical  ex- 
cellence which  refuses  to  be  analyzed  or  defined. 
Wordsworth's  sonnets  are  among  the  best  in  the  litera- 
ture, and  his  longer  poems,  such  as  The  Excursion) 
while  deficient  in  compactness  and  structure,  are 
illumined  by  passages  of  wonderful  wisdom  and 
beauty.  At  times,  as  in  those  characteristic  master- 
*  V.  The  Prelude. 


318       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEKATUBE 

pieces,  the  great  companion  odes  "  To  Duty  "  and 
"  On  the  Intimations  of  Immortality  from  Recollec- 
tions of  Early  Childhood,"  his  verse  has  an  elevation 
and  a  large  majesty  of  utterance  unheard  in  English 
poetry  since  the  deep-throated  harmonies  of  Milton. 
In  spite  of  frequent  lapses,  Wordsworth's  poetic  art 
jp  of  a  very  high  order,  and  places  him  with  the 
greatest  poets  of  England. 

In  a  very  real  sense  Wordsworth  is  the  poet  of  the 

new  democracy,  as  he  is  of  the  new  love  of  nature. 

The   chosen    characters    of    his    poems 

democracy  are  *ne  8^mP^e  an<^  hardy  peasants  of 
his  native  Cumberland.  Like  the  good 
Lord  Clifford,  in  the  "  Song  at  the  Feast  of 
Brougham  Castle,"  he  found  love  in  "huts  where 
poor  men  lie."  Once  it  was  a  canon  of  literary  art 
that  the  shepherd-hero  should  prove  to  be  a  prince 
in  disguise,  or  the  charming  shepherdess,  like  Per- 
dita,  the  lost  daughter  of  a  queen.  But  Wordsworth, 
speaking  for  a  world  that  has  outworn  its  feudalism, 
discards  all  such  adventitious  and  once  necessary 
means  of  enlisting  our  sympathy.  "The  man's  the 
gowd  for  a'  that,"  and  it  is  the  deep  democratic  feel- 
ing to  which  we  have  now  grown  so  accustomed  in 
our  modern  literature  that  gives  the  sorrows  of 
Margaret  or  of  the  old  shepherd  Michael  an  equal 
place  in  the  world's  heart  with  the  most  royal  of 
sufferers,  recognizing  in  such  a  common  humanity 
consecrated  by  the  dignity  of  a  great  grief. 

Matthew  Arnold,  himself  a  poetic  disciple  of 
Wordsworth,  has  thus  summed  up  the  peculiar  great- 
ness of  his  master's  work  :  "  Wordsworth's  poetry  is 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN   LITERATURE        319 

great  because  of  the  extraordinary  power  with  which 
"Wordsworth  feels  the  joy  offered  to  us  in  nature,  the 
joy  offered  to  us  in  the  simple  primary  affections  and 
duties  ;  and  because  of  the  extraordinary  power  with 
which,  in  case  after  case,  he  shows  us  this  joy,  and 
renders  it  so  as  to  make  us  share  it."  * 

STUDY  LIST 
WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

1.  ODE  INTIMATIONS  OF  IMMORTALITY  FROM  RECOLLEC- 
TIONS OP  EARLY  CHILDHOOD,  (ft)  This  is  one  of  the  tines: 
among  English  odes,  as  well  as  one  of  the  greatest  of  Words 
worth  s  poems.  As  poetry  it  has  a  wonderful  nobility  and 
majesty,  and.  especially  in  certain  stanzas  (e.  g.,  IX.)  has  a  lin- 
gering grandeur  of  uiction  which  recalls  Milton.  It  is  also  of 
the  first  importance  as  an  expression  of  Wordsworth's  teaching. 
The  artistic  success  with  which  it  combines  philosophy  with 
poetry  is  worthy  of  attention  from  those  who,  like  Keats,  con- 
tend that  they  should  be  kept  separate. 

(b)  The  form  of  the  poem.     The  poem  belongs  to  that  variety 
of  lyric  verse  known  as  the  ode,  from  Greek  itSrj,  aii6u,  to 
sing).     Gosse  defines  an  ode  as  "  any  strain  of  enthusiastic  and 
exalted  lyrical  verse,  directed  to  a  fixed  purpose,  and  dealing 
progressively  with  one  dignified  theme."    Odes  are  usually  of 
complicated  and  irregular  meter,  and  are  commonly  divided 
into  stanzas  of  unequal  length.     Look  up  origin  and  history  of 
the  ode,  place  in  Greek  literature,  etc.     Name  famous  Greek 
writer  of  odes,  and  give  some  account  of  him.     What  are  some 
of  the  best  known  odes  in  English  literature  ?    What  famous 
ode  was  written  by  J.  R.  Lowell  ? 

(c)  Study  of  the  poem.     Fundamental  idea  is  found  in  its  title. 
Stanzas  I.  to  IV.     Early  sympathy  with  nature.     Does  such 
feeling  of  nearness  to  nature  commonly  exist  in  childhood  ? 
In  what  other  poems  does  Wordsworth  treat  of  depth  of  early 

*  Introduction  to  Selections  from  Wordxicorth. 


320       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

impressions  of  nature,  and  insist  on  their  importance  ?  "What 
is  the  exact  force  of  phrase,  "apparelled  in  celestial  light"? 
Cf.  "Evening  Ode,"  a  poem  of  Wordsworth's  later  life, 
(1818) : 

"  From  worlds  not  quickened  by  the  sun 
A  portion  of  the  gift  is  won  ; 
An  intermingling  of  Heaven's  pomp  is  spread 
On  ground  which  British  shepherds  tread." 

Cf.  Browning's  Prologue  in  "Asolando"  which  treats  of 
the  loss  in  age  of  the  youthful  delight  in  nature  : 

"  And  now  a  flower  is  just  a  flower  : 

Man,  bird,  beast  are  but  beast,  bird,  man — 
Simply  themselves,  uncinct  by  dower 
Of  dyes  which,  when  life's  day  began, 
Round  each  in  glory  ran." 

The  first  division  of  the  ode  may  be  said  to  end  with  ques- 
tion at  conclusion  of  Stanza  IV. 

Stanza  V.  A  break  in  the  composition  of  poem  occurred 
between  Stanzas  IV.  and  V.  Wordsworth  says  :  "  This  was 
composed  during  my  residence  at  Town  End,  Grasmere. 
Two  years  at  least  passed  between  the  writing  of  the  first 
four  stanzas  and  the  remaining  part "  (Memoirs  of  William 
Wordsicorth,  by  Christopher  Wordsworth,  D.  D.).  The  poem 
was  composed  partly  in  1803  and  partly  in  1806.  What  is  the 
connection  between  Stanzas  IV.  and  V.  ?  For  the  doctrine  of 
a  pre-natal  existence  Wordsworth  went  to  Socrates  and  Plato 
(Cf.,  also,  ideas  in  Eastern  philosophy  on  this  point,  doctrine 
of  metemnsvchosis.  etc.)  V.  Plato's  Pkasdo,  Meno,  Republic,  x. 
617,  etc.  Commenting  en  this  portion  of  the  poem,  Wordsworth 
writes  :  "  To  that  dreamlike  vividness  and  splendor  which 
invest  objects  of  sight  in  childhood,  everyone,  I  believe,  if  he 
would  look  back,  could  bear  testimony,  and  I  need  not  dwell 
upon  it  here  ;  but  having  in  the  poem  regarded  it  as  presump- 
tive evidence  of  a  prior  state  of  existence,  I  think  it  right  to 
protest  agaiust  a  conclusion  which  has  given  pain  to  some  good 


THE  BEGINNING  OP  MODERN  LITERATURE       321 

and  pious  persons,  that  I  meant  to  inculcate  such  a  belief.  It 
Is  far  too  shadowy  a  notion  to  be  recommended  to  faith  as 
more  than  an  element  in  our  instincts  of  immortality,"  etc. 
(Memoirs  of  Wordsworth)  supra.  Cf.,  for  expression  of  this 
feeling  of  reminiscence  of  previous  existence,  Henry  Vaughan's 
"  Retreat,"  given  in  Palgrave's  Golden  Treasury,  Lowell's 
"In  the  Twilight,"  Browning's  "Christina,"  Tennyson's 
"  Two  Voices"  (stanza  beginning  "  It  may  be  that  no  life  is 
found,"  and  those  following) ;  last  stanza  of  Hood's  "  I 
remember,  I  remember,"  etc.,  also  passages  in  Wordsworth 
embodying  same  idea.  Stanza  VI.  treats  of  conflict  between 
our  natural  affinity  with  an  eternal  sphere,  and  the  earthly  and 
temporal.  (In  the  title  of  the  poem  the  word  "immortal"  has 
rather  the  force  of  "eternal."  v.  Richardson's  Dictionary.)  This 
is  a  favorite  idea  with  Wordsworth  ;  cite  other  passages  in 
which  he  develops  it.  Stanza  VII.  This  is  simply  in  illus- 
tration of  the  preceding  stanza.  Cf.,  Longfellow's  sonnet, 
"Nature,"  and  contrast  Pope's  Essay  on  Man,  Epistle  II.,  275- 
282.  Wordsworth  had  Hartley  Coleridge  in  mind  in  this  de- 
scription ;  v.  Memoirs  of  Hartley  Coleridge,  by  his  brother. 
Stanza  VIII.  turns  on  the  question,  "Why  with  such  earnest 
pains,"  etc. ,  and  with  it  we  reach  another  natural  division  of  the 
poem.  Stanza  IX.  sets  forth  the  central  thought.  The  soul's 
reminiscences  of  a  previous  state  are  made  the  witness  to  it* 
kinship  with  an  eternal  order  of  things.  "Custom"  cannot 
utterly  "  destroy  "  this  "something"  that  yet  lives  in  the  soul, 
and  high  instincts  remain  which  are  "  the  fountain  light  of 
all  our  day."  On  the  corrupting  effect  of  "  custom"  on  the 
soul,  cf.  Plato's  treatment  of  the  story  of  the  sea-god  Glaucus, 
Republic,  x.  611  et  seq  The  soul,  Plato  declares,  would 
become  different  if  she  followed  her  "divine  impulse,"  but 
"  she  feeds  upon  earth  and  is  overgrown  by  the  good  things  of 
this  life  as  they  are  termed, "etc.  (Jowett's  translation.)  Stanzas 
X.-XI.  The  whole  concludes  with  a  strain  of  assured  triumph. 
The  "primal  sympathy"  with  the  eternal  order,  "  having 
been  must  ever  be."  "  Thanks  to  the  human  heart  by  which 
we  live,"  etc.  Look  up  and.  cf.  with  this  "  We  live  by  admi- 
ration, hope,  and  love  ;  "  cf.,  also.  Browning's  Paracelsus 


322       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

"  "Were  man  all  mind — he  gains 
A  station  little  enviable.     From  God 
Down  to  the  lowest  spirit  ministrant, 
Intelligence  exists  which  casts  our  mind 
Into  immeasurable  shade.     No,  no  1 
Love,  hope,  fear,  faith — these  make  humanity  ; 
These  are  its  sign,  and  note,  and  character." 

— Paracelsus,  p.  93. 

Of.  with  these  two  stanzas  the  earlier  and  the  maturer  feeling 
for  nature  in  "  Tintern  Abbey  "  : 

"  For  I  have  learned 
To  look  on  Nature,  not  as  in  the  hour 
Of  thoughtless  youth  ;  but  hearing  oftentimes 
The  still,  sad  music  of  humanity, 
Nor  harsh,  nor  grating,  though  of  ample  power 
To  chasten  and  subdue." 

"Tome  the  meanest  flower  that  blows,"  etc.  Cf.  Brown- 
ing's  "  Prologue,"  supra.  Consider  this  poem  as  a  whole, 
state  into  what  divisions  it  naturally  falls,  point  out  the  con- 
nection between  the  stanzas,  and  the  relation  of  the  thoughts 
of  the  whole  to  Wordsworth's  other  work.  For  the  ode  in 
general,  consult  Theodore  Watts'  article  on  "Poetry"  in  Ency- 
clopaedia Britannica,  and  note  his  estimate  of  the  ' '  Immor- 
tality Ode"  as  "  the  finest  irregular  ode  in  the  language." 

2.  ODE  TO  DUTY.     Compare  this  poem  with  the  foregoing. 
On  what  two  helps  to  right  conduct  does  Wordsworth  rely  in 
these  two  poems  ?     Cf.  with    this    "  Sonnet   on    Beach    at 
Calais." 

3.  "To  the  Cuckoo,"   "The   Reverie    of   Poor    Susan," 
"  My  Heart  Leaps  Up,"  etc.,  "  The  Daffodils,"  "  Three  Years 
She  Grew,"  etc.    What  idea  have  all  these  poems  in  common  ? 
Explain  the  connection  of  this  idea  with  Wordsworth's  philos- 
ophy of  life. 

4.  "  Lines  on  Revisiting  Tintern  Abbey."    "  Laodamia," 
one  of  Wordsworth's  few  classical  poems.     What  was  his 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODEEN  LITERATUBE       323 

feeling  in  general  toward  modern  attempts  to  revive  classical 
subjects  ?  What  comment  illustrative  of  this  did  he  make 
on  Keats'  Endymionf  Cf.  these  two  poets  on  this  basis. 
What  Latin  poet  had  Wordsworth  been  reading  before  he 
wrote  "Laodamia"?  What  is  the  central  thought  of  the 
poem  ? 

5.  SONNETS.     "  The  World  is  Too  Much  With  Us  ;  "  "  Mil- 
Ion  ;  "  "  Composed  upon  Westminster  Bridge,  September  3. 
1803  ; "  "  They  Dreamed  Not  of  a  Perishable  Home  ; "  "  Writ- 
ten in  London,  September,  1802  ;  "  "When  I  Have  Borne  in 
Memory  What  Has  Tamed."    Give  some  account  of  history 
of  sonnet  in  England  before  Wordsworth.     Can  you  name 
any  sonnet  writers  in  early  part  of  eighteenth  century  ?     Who 
•was  William  Lisle  Bowles  ? 

6.  NARRATIVE.      "Hart-leap  Well,"  ""Ruth,"  "Michael," 
"  The  Brothers,"  "  Rob  Roy's  Grave." 

7.  LYRICAL.     "The  Solitary  Reaper,"  "The  Primrose  of 
»!:;,-  liock,"  "'.''ae  Grave  of  Burns,"  "  She  Dwelt  Among  the 
•.  nirodden  Ways,"  "She  was  a  Phantom  of  Delight,"  "  The 
dJiik'tion  of  Margaret."  "  A  Poet's  Epitaph,"  "Expostulation 
and  Reply,"  "  The  Tables  Turned." 

8.  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.      Knight's  Life   of  (Mac- 
millau),  3  vols.,  is  the  most  complete.     Myers's  Wordsworth, 
English  Men  of  Letters  Series,  is  extremely  good ;  see  also  Lee's 
Dorothy  Wordsworth,  Fields's   Yesterdays  with  Authors,  John- 
son's Three  Americans  and  Three  Englishmen,  Howitt's  Haunts 
and  Homes  of  British  Poets,  Button's  Essays  in  Literary  Criti- 
cism.  Leslie  Stephen's  "Essay  on  the  Ethics  of  Wordsworth," 
in  Umirs  in  a  Library,  third  series,  is  a  masterly  presentation 
of   Wordsworth's  teaching.      Matthew    Arnold's  "  Introduc- 
tion "  to  his  Selections  from    Wordsworth,  and  J.  R.  Lowell's 
essays  on  Wordsworth  in  Among  My  Books,  My  Study   Win- 
dows, and  Democracy  and  Other  Addresses,  are  of  great  value. 
See  also  Shairp's  Studies  in  Poetry  and  Philosophy,  Shairp's 
Poetic  Interpretation  of  Nature ;  also  Swinburne's  "Words- 
worth nnd  Byron,"  Nineteenth  Century,  April  and  May,  1884 
(also  in  Miscellanies). 


324       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 
SAMUEL   TAYLOR    COLERIDGE. 1772-1834 

Words  worth  lived  out  his  long,  blameless,  and 
devoted  life  under  conditions  singularly  favorable  to 
the  full  development  of  his  genius.  Freed  from  the 
pressure  of  money  difficulties,  and  enabled  to  live 
simply  amid  the  loveliest  of  natural  surroundings, 
happy  in  his  home  and  in  his  friends,  and  blessed 
with  health  and  energy,  he  has  left  us  a  shining 
example  of  a  serene  and  truly  successful  life.  The 
story  of  Coleridge,  Wordsworth's  friend  and  fellow 
poet,  is  tragically  different.  It  is  the  story  of  a  man 
of  rare  and  varied  gifts,  who,  from  whatever  cause, 
could  not,  or  did  not,  put  forth  his  powers  to  the  full. 
Carlyle  has  condensed  this  into  one  epigrammatic 
sentence  :  "To  the  man  himself  Nature  had  given, 
in  high  measure,  the  seeds  of  a  noble  endowment ; 
and  to  unfold  it  had  been  forbidden  him." 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,  the  youngest  of  a  large 
family,  was  the  son  of  the  vicar  and  schoolmaster  at 
the  little  town  of  Ottery  St.  Mary,  Devonshire.  Left. 
an  orphan  in  his  ninth  year,  he  was  admitted  to  a 
Charity  School,  Christ's  Hospital,  London,  and 
began  the  unequal  fight  of  life.  Here  he  met 
Charles  Lamb,  who  has  recorded  some  of  their  joint 
experiences  in  one  of  his  Essays  of  Elia*  From  the 
first,  Coleridge  seems  to  have  half  lived  in  a  drearn- 
woi'ld,  created  by  "  the  shaping  spirit  of  imagina- 
tion," which,  as  he  says,  "  Nature  gave  me  at  my 
birth."  f  As  a  little  child  he  wandered  over  the 

*  Recollections  of  Christ's  Hospital. 
f  Coleridge's  "  Dejection;  an  Ode." 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       325 

Devonshire  fields,  slashing  the  tops  off  weeds  and 
nettles  in  the  character  of  one  of  the  "  Seven  Cham- 
pions of  Christendom";  and  in  school  at  London  he 
would  lie  for  hours  on  the  roof,  gazing  after  the  drift- 
ing clouds  while  his  schoolfellows  played  football  in 
the  court  below  ;  or  in  the  midst  of  the  crowded 
;  Strand,  he  would  fancy  himself  Leander  swimming 
the  Hellespont.  A  hopelessly  erratic,  inconsequent 
element  runs  through  his  whole  life,  depriving  it  of 
unity  and  steady  purpose.  At  nineteen  he  went  to 
Cambridge  and  furnished  his  rooms  with  no  thought 
of  his  inability  to  pay  the  upholsterers  ;  then,  under 
the  pressure  of  a  comparatively  trifling  debt,  he  gave 
up  all  his  prospects,  fled  to  London,  and  enlisted  in 
the  Dragoons.  He  returned  to  Cambridge,  but  left 
there  in  1794  without  taking  a  degree.  Visiting 
Oxford  in  this  year,  he  met  the  youthful  Southey,  in 
whom  he  found  a  kindred  spirit.  Both  were  feeling 
that  impulse  from  the  French  Revolution  which  was 
agitating  Europe.  They  agreed  that  human  society 
should  be  reconstructed,  and  decided  to  begin  the 
reform  by  establishing  an  ideal  community  in  the 
wilds  of  America.  The  new  form  of  government 
was  to  be  called  a  Pantisocracy,  or  the  government 
by  all,  and  the  citizens  were  to  combine  farming  and 
literature.  The  bent  of  the  two  poets  at  this  time  is 
shown  by  the  subjects  of  their  work.  They  com- 
posed together  a  poem  on  The  Fall  of  Robespierre, 
and  Southey's  Wat  Tyler  (1794)  is  charged  with  the 
revolutionary  spirit.  In  1795  Coleridge  married 
Sarah  Fricker,  whose  sister  Edith  became  the  wife  of 
Southey  a  few  weeks  later.  The  pantisocratic  scheme 


326       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

was  given  up  for  lack  of  funds,  and  Coleridge  and 
his  wife  settled  at  Clevedon,  on  the  Bristol  Channel. 
It  was  about  two  years  after  this  that  he  met  Words- 
worth at  Alfoxden,  contributing  The  Ancient  Mar- 
iner to  their  joint  venture,  the  Lyrical  Ballads.  In 
1798  Coleridge  left  for  Germany,  where  he  remained 
about  two  years,  receiving  a  fresh  and  powerful 
stimulus  from  the  new  intellectual  and  literary  life 
on  which  that  nation  had  just  entered.  An  immedi- 
ate result  of  the  visit  was  a  translation  of  Schiller's 
Wallenstein,  but  its  effect  on  Coleridge's  tone  of 
thought  was  profound  and  lasting.  Through  him, 
and  afterward  through  Thomas  Carlyle,  the  influence, 
of  German  literature  began  for  the  first  time  to  tell 
on  that  of  England. 

Coleridge  returned  to  England  in  1800.  He  gave 
up  an  excellent  opening  in  journalism  to  lead  a  life  of 
quietness  and  study,  settling  near  Keswick,  in  Cum- 
berland, a  district  to  which  his  friend  Wordswort'n 
had  already  retreated.  Here  he  was  full  of  great, 
plans  ;  life  seemed  growing  easier,  but  his  woi'k  was 
interrupted  by  illness,  and  to  quiet  the  torments  of 
gout  and  neuralgia.,  he  unhappily  resorted  to  a  quack 
specific  containing  opium. 

He  thus  gradually  came  under-  the  power  of  this 
terrible  drug,  and  for  the  next  fifteen  years  he  battled 
with  a  habit  which  was  clouding  his  splendid  intellect, 
and  benumbing  his  energies  and  his  will.  To  follow 
this  melancholy  story  is  like  watching  the  efforts  of 
some  hurt  creature  struggling  in  the  toils.  Estranged 
from  his  family,  he  became,  as  he  writes,  "  the  most 
miserable  of  men,  having  a  home  and  yet  homeless." 


THE  BEGINNING   OF  MODERN  LITERATURE        327 

Finally,  under  the  care  of  a  Mr.  Gilraan,  a  surgeon, 
at  Highgate,  London,  he  conquered  his  fatal  habit. 

Carlyle,  who  visited  him  at  Mr.  Oilman's,  says  that 
lie  "  crave  YOU  the  idea  of  a  life  that  had  been  full  of 

ti 

sufferings  ;  a  life  heavy  laden,  half  vanquished,  still 
swimming  painfully  in  seas  of  manifold  physical 
ami  other  bewilderment."  *  Once,  with  the  sense  of 
power  strong  within  him,  he  had  looked  forward  to 
the  composition  of  some  mighty  works  which  should 
adequately  express  his  genius  ;  now,  with  so  much 
yet  undone,  he  was  beaten  and  disheartened,  tired  by 
the  long  fight  against  himself  and  the  world.  His 
health  was  shattered,  his  will  weakened,  while  the 
sense  of  failure  weighed  him  down.  In  one  of  his 
later  poems  he  pictures  himself  as  listless  and  inert  in 
the  midst  of  the  glad  young  vigor  of  the  spring,  idle 
while  "  all  nature  seems  at  work  "  about  him,  his 
sadness  but  deepened  by  the  melancholy  sense  of 
contrast.  In  him  the  motive  power  is  extinct. 

"  And  would  you  learn  the  spells  that  drowse  my  soul  ? 
Work  without  hope  draws  nectar  in  a  sieve, 
And  hope  without  an  object  cannot  live." 

Such  poems  bring  us  closer  to  him  than  any  intru- 
sive words  of  criticism.  Youth  and  Age  is  even 
more  beautiful  in  its  patient  hopelessness  and  the 
pathos  of  its  unavailing  look  backward  to  a  lost  youth, 

"  This  breathing  house  not  built  with  hands, 
This  body  that  does  me  grievous  wrong, 
O'er  aery  cliils  uml  glittering  sands, 
How  lightly  then  it  flashed  along — 

*  Carlyle's  Life  of  Sterling. 


328       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Naught  cared  this  body  for  wind  or  weather 
When  youth  and  I  lived  in't  together." 

Now,  when  "  no  hope  is," 

"  Life's  a  warning 
That  only  serves  to  make  us  grieve, 

When  we  are  old  ; 
That  only  serves  to  make  us  grieve 
With  oft  and  tedious  taking-leave, 
Like  some  poor  nigh-related  guest, 
That  may  not  rudely  be  dismist. 
Yet  hath  outstayed  his  welcome  while, 
And  tells  the  jest  without  the  smile."* 

Hopeless  as  the  sadness  of  this  poem  is,  it  is  yet  the 
sadness  of  a  tranquil  and  quiet  acceptance  of  a  great 
loss.  In  nothing  is  the  real  sweetness  and  soundness 
of  this  man's  nature  more  manifest  than  in  the 
absence  of  all  taint  of  bitterness,  of  peevish  com- 
plaint or  Byronic  despair.  What  he  deems  his  own 
failure  does  not  prevent  his  genuine  delight  in  Words- 
worth's great  achievements.  And  when  at  last — as 
in  one  of  his  own  poems — Hope  and  Love,  overtasked, 
at  length  give  way,  their  mute  sister,  Patience 
"  Both  supporting,  does  the  work  of  both."  f 

When  Coleridge  wrote  his  words  of  regret  for  the 
youth  and  life  that  seemed  to  have  slipped  away  from 
him  so  fast,  the  corruptible  body  was  already  pressing 
heavily  on  the  mind  that  mused  upon  so  many  things. 
Four  years  later,  on  July  25,  1834,  he  was  delivered 
from  the  burden  of  the  flesh.  The  world  had  let  him 
die  in  his  conviction  of  failure,  but  no  sooner  had  the 

*  Coleridge's  "  Youth  and  Age." 
f  "  Love.  Ho  DC  and  Patience  in  Education  "* 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       329 

grave  dosed  over  him  than  England  resounded  with 
his  praise. 

If  Wordsworth's  was  a  life  lived  out  in  the  still, 
high  altitudes  of  thought,  if  it  was  heroic  in  its 
simplicity  and  austerity,  it  has  in  it  &  certain  chill 
that  seems  to  come  from  its  very  loftiness  and  isola- 
tion. But  Coleridge,  with  his  rare  and  lovely  nature, 
is  perpetually  hurting  himself  against  the  rough 
places  of  an  uncompromising  world.  He  is  strug- 
gling all  his  life  with  the  crowd,  stumbling,  and 
beaten,  and  disheartened,  and  by  the  mysterious  law 
of  human  suffering,  he  gains  a  tenderness  that  we 
miss  in  \Vordsworth  in  spite  of  all  his  successes.  If 
Wordsworth  has  the  stimulating  vigor  of  the  stoic, 
Coleridge  has  the  great  compassion  of  the  Christian. 

For  in  spite  of  his  inward  conviction  that  he  had 
failed,  there  is,  especially  in  his  later  poems,  the  still- 
ness of  a  great  calm.  In  Henry  Crabbe  Robinson'8 
Diary  there  is  this  significant  passage  :  "  Last  night 
he  [Coleridge]  concluded  his  fine  development  of  the 
Prince  of  Denmark  by  an  eloquent  statement  of  the 
moral  of  the  play.  *  Action,'  he  said,  '  is  the  great 
end  of  all  ;  no  intellect,  however  grand,  is  valuable  if 
it  draw  us  from  action  and  lead  us  to  tliink  and  think 
of  the  time  till  action  is  passed  by  and  we  can  do 
nothing.*  Somebody  said  to  me,  '  This  is  a  satire  on 
himself.'  '  No,'  said  I,  *  it  is  an  elegy.'  " 

Much  of  Coleridge's  work  is,  like  his  life,  fragmen- 
tary and  incomplete  ;  yet  its  range  and  variety  bear 
witness  to  the  broad  scope  and  many-   Coleridge's 
sided  vigor  of  his  genius.     He  was  one   work 
of    the-    great    English    talkers.       On    every    hand 


330       INTEODUCTION  10  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

we  find  testimony  to  his  personal  influence,  upon 
his  distinguished  contemporaries.  As  a  converser  he 
held  somewhat  the  same  place  as  that  occupied  by 
Samuel  Johnson  immediately  before,  and  by  Thomas 
Babington  Macaulay  immediately  after  him. 

In  Coleridge's  full  life  the  writing  of  poetry  was 

but  one  interest,  even  perhaps  a  somewhat  incidental 

As  philoso-     one-     His  discursive  energy  spent  itself 

pher  and.         in   philosophy,   in   theology,  in   political 

critic.  a   •          •*•    •  TT 

journalism,  and  in  criticism.     He  strove 

to  infuse  into  the  common  sense  and  materialistic 
English  philosophy,  the  more  ideal  and  spiritual 
character  of  contemporary  German  thought.  He 
was  the  most  profound  and  philosophic  critic  of  his 
time.  His  JSiographia  Literaria  contains  an  expo- 
sition of  Wordsworth's  poetic  principles  even  superior 
to  that  put  forth  by  that  poet  himself.  His  lectures 
on  Shakespeare  began  an  era  in  tli«  history  of  Eng- 
lish Shakesperean  criticism. 

Coleridge  left  but  little  poetry.     Much  of  this  is 
scrappy  and  unfinished,  and   no  small   proportion  is 

obviously  inferior  in  quality  to  his  best 

As  poet.  *    ,        „  •  .      , 

poetic  work.     He  seems  to  have  required 

peculiar  conditions  for  poetic  composition  ;  inspira- 
tion came  to  him  suddenly,  in  mysterious  gusts,  but 
often  before  a  poem  was  finished  it  as  suddenly  left 
him,  apparently,  as  powerless  as  an  ordinary  mortal  to 
complete  what  none  but  him  could  have  begun. 
Thus,  after  writing  the  second  part  of  Christabel,  a 
poem  born  of  the  very  breath  of  inspiration,  he 
waited  vainly  until  the  end  of  his  life  for  the  return 
of  the  creative  mood.  He  tells  us  that  when  writing 


THE  BEGINNING   OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       331 


Khan,  a  poem  which  came  to  him  in  his  sleep 
as  a  kind  of  vision,  he  was  interrupted  "  by  a  person 
on  business  from  Porlock,"  and  that  on  his  return  lie 
was  unable  to  complete  it.  He  concludes  with  the 
pathetically  characteristic  words  :  "  The  author  has 
frequently  proposed  to  finish  for  himself  what  had 
been  originally,  as  it  were,  given  to  him.  Avpiov 
adiov  <aro~o3,-  but  the  to-morrow  is  yet  to  come." 

We  should  rather  attribute  the  smallness  and  in- 
completeness of  liis  poetic  work  to  some  defect  of 
character  or  purpose,  some  outside  limitation  which 
clogged  the  free  exercise  of  a  great  gift,  than  regard  it 
as  the  result  of  any  flaw  in  the  quality  of  the  gift  itself. 

While  in  mere  bulk  his  contribution  to  poetry  is 
comparatively  small,  its  intrinsic  value  outweighs 
all  the  ponderous  mass  of  poor  Southey's  laborious 
epics.  When  Coleridge's  genius  works  freely  and 
under  favorable  conditions,  we  are  captivated  by  a 
music  that  places  him  with  the  lyrical  masters  of  the 
literature,  and  impressed  by  the  sense  of  his  absolute 
originality  of  tone.  His  descriptions  of  nature  are 
often  condensed  and  vivid,  like  those  of  Dante,  show- 
ing the  power  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  a  scene  and 
reproduce  it  with  a  few  quick  strokes  : 

"  The  sun's  rim  dips  ;  the  stars  rush  out  ; 
At  one  stride  comes  the  dark."* 

In  some  poems,  indeed,  he  seems  to  follow  in  the 
track  of  Wordsworth,  but  in  Christabel,  The  Ancient 
Mariner,  and  Kubla  Khan,  he  stands  alone.  There 
have  been  many  poets  of  the  supernatural  ;  but 

*  Tlie  Ancient  Mariner. 


332       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

one  province  of  the  land  of  visions  Coleridge  rules  as 
his  demesne,  and 

"  Within  that  circle  none  durst  walk  but  he."* 

The  Ancient  Mariner  is  connected  with  that  re- 
vival of  interest  in  native  ballad  poetry  which  was 
one  phase  of  romanticism.     Not  only  is 

i4  a  ballad  in  form ;  ifc  is  filled  %vith 

those  ghostly  and  mysterious  elements 
which,  in  a  cruder  shape,  enter  so  largely  into  the 
folk-song  and  legend  of  primitive  superstition.  Such 
elements  were  congenial  to  certain  writers  of  the 
romantic  school,  both  in  Germany  and  England, 
representing  as  they  did  the  "  Renaissance  of  Won- 
der," f  the  reaction  against  the  matter-of-fact  and 
rational  spirit  of  the  preceding  period.  In  both  The 
Ancient  Mariner  and  Christabel  the  ghostly  and  the 
horrible  lose  much  of  that  gross  and  physical  terror 
which  the  ordinary  literature  of  superstition  is  con- 
tent with  calling  forth.  Coleridge's  more  subtle  art 
brings  us  into  a  twilight  and  debatable  region  which 
seems  to  hover  between  the  unseen  and  the  seen,  the 
conjectural  and  the  real.  He  invests  us  with  name- 
less terrors,  as  when  we  fear  to  turn  because  of  a 
fiendish  something  that  treads  behind. 

We  are  also  to  observe  the  skill  with  which  this 
supernatural  element  is  woven  into  a  narrative  of 
possible  incidents,  so  realistically  told  as  fully  to 
persuade  us  of  their  truth.  By  such  means  Cole- 
ridge has  carried  out  his  professed  object,  and  almost 

•"Prologue  to  the  Tempest." — Dryden. 
f  The  phrase  of  Theodore  Watts, 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       333 

deluded  us   into   a   temporary   belief  in   the  whole 
story. 

Coleridge  has  thus  created  a  new  thing  out  of  the 
crude  materials  of  vulgar  superstition,  but  in  doing 
this  he  has  employed  other  agencies  . 

than  those  already  named.  In  his  shad-  significance 
o\vy  world,  as  in  that  of  Hawthorne,  we  of  the  P°em- 
are  haunted  by  the  continual  suggestion  of  some 
underlying  moral  significance.  How  far  we  should 
attempt  to  confine  the  spiritual  suggestiveness  of 
The  Ancient  Mariner  within  the  limits  of  a  set 
moral  is  open  to  question.  To  do  this  may  seem  to 
some  like  taking  the  poem  out  of  its  twilight  atmos- 
phere to  drag  it  into  the  light  of  common  day.  Yet 
we  can  hardly  fail  to  feel  that  Coleridge  has  here 
written  for  us  the  great  poem  of  charity,  that  "  very 
bond  of  peace  and  of  all  virtues  "  which  should  bind 
together  all  created  things.  It  is  against  this  law  of 
love  that  the  mariner  sins.  He  wantonly  kills  a 
creature  that  has  trusted  him,  that  has  loved  him, 
that  has  partaken  of  the  sailors'  food  and  come  at 
their  call.  The  necessary  penalty  for  this  breach  in 
the  fellowship  of  living  things  is  an  exclusion  from 
that  fellowship.  His  "  soul  "  is  condemned  to  dwell 
alone,  until  by  his  compassion  for  the  "  happy  living 
things"  about  the  ship — by  the  renewal  of  that  love 
against  which  he  has  sinned — he  takes  the  first  step 
toward  his  return  into  the  great  brotherhood  of 
animate  creation.  For  hate,  or  wanton  cruelty,  is 
the  estranging  power  which,  by  an  inevitable  law, 
forces  a  man  into  spiritual  exile,  just  as  love  is 
the  uniting  power  which  draws  together  all  living 


334       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

things.  The  very  power  to  pray  depends  upon  our 
dwelling  in  this  mystic  fellowship  of  charity,  and  in 
the  poem  praying  and  loving  are  constantly  asso- 
ciated. (See  verses  14  and  15  in  part  iv.,  also  22  and 
23  in  part  vii.) 

The  underlying  meaning  in  this  becomes  apparent 
in  that  verse  which  gives  us  the  completes!  state- 
ment  of  the  thought  of  the  poem  : 

"  He  prayeth  best  who  loveth  best 
All  things  both  great  and  small ; 
For  the  dear  God  who  loveth  us, 
He  made  and  loveth  all." 

The  last  couplet  gives  us  the  reason  for  the  declara 
tion  contained  in  the  first.  Not  only  is  love  the  bond 
between  all  created  things — it  is  the  bond  also  be- 
tween the  Creator  and  his  creatures.  It  is  the 
mysterious,  underlying  principle  of  creation  because 
it  is  the  essence  of  its  Creator,  and  an  outcast  through 
his  violation  of  love  here  is  no  longer  able  to 
approach  the  source  of  all  love.  For  the  loneliness 
of  the  mariner  does  not  consist  in  his  loss  of  human 
sympathy  merely  ;  he  seems  to  drift  on  that  strange 
sea  of  isolation  almost  beyond  the  power  of  the 
Universal  Love  : 

"  So  lonely  'twas  that  God  himself 
Scarce  seemed  there  to  be." 

Looked  at  from  this  aspect,  The  Ancient  Mariner 
becomes  the  profoundest  and  perhaps  most  beautiful 
expression  of  that  feeling  of  sympathy  for  all  living 
things  which  we  have  found  uttering  itself  with 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       335 

increasing  distinctness  in    later    eighteenth -century 
literature. 

But  Coleridge's  place  as  a  poet  is  far  from  resting 
entirely  on  his  poems  of  the  supernatural.  Like 
"Wordsworth,  although  not  perhaps  so  instinctively 
and  habitually,  he  sees  in  nature  the  outward  mani- 
festation of  a  divine  energy,  and  God  is  the  "  all- 
conscious  presence  of  the  Universe."  But  he  real- 
izes, as  Wordsworth  did  not  appear  to  do,  that  to 
each  man  nature  is  but  what  his  mood  or  his  power 
of  spiritual  apprehension  makes  her.  To  the  dulled 
or  jaundiced  eye  the  world  is  obscured  or  discolored; 
we  endow  nature  with  that  joy  which  is  within  our 
own  souls,  or  darken  her  fairest  scenes  with  the  pall 
of  our  sorrow,  so  that  we  receive  from  her  "  but 
what  we  give."  *  In  the  philosophical  element  of 
Coleridge's  maturer  poems  we  recognize  the  influence 
of  that  idealistic  thought  of  contemporary  Germany 
which  was  but  the  philosophic  form  of  the  rebound 
from  the  materialism  of  an  earlier  time. 

As  he  watched  the  promise  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion depart  in  the  license  and  frenzy  of  the  Reign  of 
Terror,  Coleridge,  like  Wordsworth  and 
Southey,  abandoned  his  youthful  hopes 
for  a  settled  conservatism.  Burke  had 
written  at  the  opening  of  the  Revolution  "  that  the 
effect  of  liberty  to  individuals  is  that  they  may  do 
what  they  please  ;  we  ought  to  see  what  it  will 
please  them  to  do  before  we  risk  congratulations 

*  "  Dejection  ;  an  Ode."  For  this  view  of  nature  see  this 
poem  and  contrast  it  with  Wordsworth's  "Expostulation  and 
Reply." 


836       INTBOD0CTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEBATUBE 

which  may  be  soon  turned  into  complaints."  *  Seven 
years  later,  during  which  he  had  looked  on  at  the 
murderous  riot  of  a  nation  from  which  all  external 
forces  of  control  had  been  suddenly  withdrawn,  Cole- 
ridge reaches  in  his  "  France  "  a  similar  conclusion. 
He  sees  that  true  liberty  must  rest  upon  obedience  to 
a  moral  law,  that  the  only  foundation  for  the  im- 
provement of  society  is  the  improvement  of  the 
individual,  without  which  a  so-called  liberty  may  but 
hand  men  over  to  the  tyranny  of  evil  habits  and 
desires. 

"  The  Sensual  and  the  Dark  rebel  in  vain, 
Slaves  by  their  own  compulsion.    In  mad  game 
They  burst  their  manacles  and  wear  the  name 
Of  Freedom,  graven  on  a  heavier  chain."  f 

In  this  conviction,  that  liberty  is  obedience  to  the 
highest,  Coleridge  is  one  with  Wordsworth  and  with 
John  Ruskin,  the  daring  and  impassioned  social 
reformer  of  our  own  day. 

STUDY  LIST 
COLERIDGE 

1.  POEMS  OP  THE  SUPERNATURAL,  (a)  The  Ancient 
Mariner.  For  accounts  of  the  way  in  which  the  poem  came 
to  be  written,  sources  of  the  story,  etc.,  v.  Memoirs  of  William 
Wordsworth,  by  Christopher  "Wordsworth,  D.  D. ;  Coleridge's 
Biographia  Literaria,  chap,  xiv.;  Hales'  Longer  English. 
Poems,  notes  ou  Ancient  Mariner ;  Brandl's  Life  of  Cvtendge, 
p.  179  ;  De  Quincey's  Spanish  Military  Nun,  sec.  17. 

Why  did  Coleridge  write  "  It  is  an  Ancient  Mariner," 
rather  than  "  There  is,"  etc.  ?  Cf.  opening  of  "  Friar  of  Orders 

*  Burke,  Reflections  on  French  Revolution. 

\  Coleridge,  "  France  ;  an  Ode." 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       337 

Gray,"  "  "Wreck  of  the  Hesperus,"  etc.,  etc.  Give  other 
examples  of  use  of  this  form.  Why  should  a  wedding  guest 
hare  been  selected  by  Coleridge  as  the  person  to  hear  the 
Mariner's  story  ?  Point  out  any  points  of  connection  between 
The  Ancient  Mariner  and  certain  contemporary  social  or 
literary  conditions.  What  sentiment  has  the  poem  last 
mentioned  in  common  with  the  following  :  Wordsworth's  ^ 
"  Hart-leap  Well "  ;  Burns'  "  To  a  Mouse,"  and  "  On  Scarinsr 
Some  Water-fowl,"  etc.  ?  Cite  other  poems,  written  in  or 
before  this  time,  expressing  this  same  sentiment,  and  give 
contemporary  instances  which  show  its  presence  outside  of 
literature.  Find  passage  in  Coleridge's  "Wanderings  of 
Cain,"  where  the  bond  of  fellowship  between  man  and  the 
animals  is  broken  by  the  entrance  of  sin.  In  what  novel  of 
Hawthorne's  is  this  situation  strongly  brought  out  ? 

Has  The  Ancient  Mariner  any  definite  purpose  ?  Discuss 
idea  of  its  meaning  suggested  on  p.  278  ei  seq.,  and  look  up 
similar  or  other  interpretations. 

(b)  Christabel;  v.  Brandl's  Coleridge,  p.  206  et  seq. 

(c)  Kubla    Khan.     Discuss  Coleridge's  general  treatment 
of  supernatural  in  above  poems.     Cf.  use  of  supernatural  in 
old  ballads,  as   "  The    Master  of    Weemyss,"  Motherwell's 
A  itcient  Minstrelsy,  i.  176  ;  treatment  in  Scott's  Lay  of  tlie  Last 
Jfiristrel,  etc.;  German  Romantic  ballads,  etc.,  etc. 

2.  POEMS  RELATING  TO  THE  FKENCH  REVOLUTION.  De- 
struction of  the  Bastile.  To  a  Young  Lady,  with  Poems  or.  the 
flench  Revolution  1792  ;  France,  an  Ode.  Cf.  poems  of  Words- 
worth and  others  relating  to  same  subject. 

8.  PERSONAL  AND  LYRICAL.  "  Youth  and  Age  ; "  "  Com- 
plaint and  Reproof  ; "  "  Work  Without  Hope  ;  "  "  Dejection : 
an  Ode." 

4.  PROSE  POEM.     The  Wanderings  of  Cat*. 

5.  FOR  COLERIDGE'S  PROSE,  the  reader  is  recommended  to 
Professor  H.  A.  Beers'  Selections  from  the  Prose  Writings  of 
Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,  Henry  Holt  &  Co. 

6.  LIVES  OF  COLERIDGE.    Cottle's  Reminiscences  of  CeHerUg* 
and  Southey  is  written    from   the   standpoint  of    personal 
intimacy. 


338       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Traill's  Coleridge,  English  Men  of  Letters  Series,  and  Caine's 
Coleridge,  Great  Writers  Series,  are  good  lives. 

Johnson's  Three  Americans  and  Three  Englishmen, 
Lowell's  Democracy  and  Other  Addresses,  and  Brandl's  Cole- 
ridge may  also  be  consulted.  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,  a  Narra- 
tive of  the  Events  of  his  Life,  by  James  Dykes  Campbell,  is  the 
latest  work  on  the  subject  (1894). 

SIB   WALTER   SCOTT,  1771-1832 

The  new  interest  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  in  the 
ballad  poetry  and  folk-song  of  England,  finds  its 
greatest  interpreter  in  both  the  poetry  and  prose  of 
the  author  of  the  Waverley  Novels,  who  remained 
for  so  long  a  time  "  The  Great  Unknown." 

Walter  Scott  was  born  in  Edinburgh,  August  15, 
1771.  He  took  a  genuine  pride  in  the  fact  that  he 
came  of  "gentle  folk,"  and  traces,  in  his  Auto- 
biography, his  lineal  descent  from  that  ancient  chief, 
Auld  Watt  of  Harden,  "  whose  name  I  have  made  to 
ring  in  many  a  Border  ditty,  and  from  his  fair  dame, 
the  Flower  of  Yarrow  ;  no  bad  genealogy  for  a 
Border  Minstrel."  * 

His  father,  for  whom  Walter  was  named,  was  by 
profession  a  Writer  to  the  Signet  (attorney).  His 
mother  was  Anne  Rutherford,  daughter  of  a  dis- 
tinguished physician  of  Edinburgh.  Walter  seems 
to  have  been  a  most  engaging  child,  and  a  great 
favorite  with  his  elders,  who  were  ready  to  tell  him 
the  stories  of  local  legend  in  which  he  delighted. 

*  See  Lockhart's  Life  of  Scott,  vol.  i.  chap.  i.  Consult  also 
Lady  of  the  Lake,  cant.  v.  verse  7,  supposed  to  be  a  description 
of  Scott's  border  ancestry. 


SIR     WALTER     SCOTT 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       339 

fle  thus  came  to  know  the  past  of  his  country  as  he 
only  knows  it  who  learns  it,  not  from  books,  but  from 
the  rural  depositories  of  tradition.  So  Darsie  Latimer, 
in  Redgauntlet,  heard  from  the  lips  of  Wandering 
Willie  the  marvelous  tales  of  his  ancient  house. 

Much  of  Scott's  childhood  was  spent  in  the  country 
at  Sandy  Knowe,  and  here  he  was  in  familiar  inter- 
course with  the  country  people.  He  sat  at  their 
firesides,  listening  to  scraps  of  old  ballads  and  quaint 
songs,  stories  of  Border  feuds  and  Scotch  supersti- 
tions, anecdotes  of  the  great  risings  of  1715  and  1745. 
He  thus  laid,  deep  in  his  wonderful  memory,  the 
foundations  of  that  knowledge  which  he  was  to  put 
into  the  best  setting. 

By  his  genial  and  embracing  sympathy,  he,  as  it 
were,  was  able  to  absorb  Scotland  herself,  the  out- 
ward aspect  of  her  valleys,  glens,  and  lochs,  her 
towns,  her  fishing  villages  and  hamlets,  her  people's 
life,  her  history,  spirit,  and  tradition,  and  lift  them, 
by  the  simple  force  of  his  imaginative  and  poetic 
art,  into  the  unchanging  region  of  literature. 

Scott  was  admitted  a  member  of  the  faculty  of 
advocates  in  1792.  He  obtained  the  office  of  Sheriff- 
depute  of  Selkirkshire  in  1799,  and  in  1806  that  of 
clerk  of  the  session  in  reversion.  He  entered  upon 
the  emoluments  of  this  last  in  1812,  and  from  that 
time  was  in  receipt  of  an  income  of  £1600  a  year 
from  these  two  offices.  He  discharged  these  duties 
for  twenty-five  years  with  great  fidelity,  and  the 
income  therefrom  enabled  him  to  make  of  literature 
"  a  staff  and  not  a  crutch,"  as  he  was  fond  of  saying. 
But,  be  the  motive  what  it  may,  we  can  scarcely 


340       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

imagine  more  constant  and  rapid  work  than  Scott 
accomplished  during  the  period  between  January, 
1805,  the  date  of  the  publication  of  The  Lay  of  The 
Last  Minstrel,  and  1831,  the  year  in  which  he  wrote 
the  last  of  his  great  series  of  novels.  From  1825, 
when  money  difficulties  came  upon  him,  he  worked 
tremendously  to  clear  himself  from  debt.  The  story 
of  this  struggle  is  a  very  familiar  one,  and  its  full 
details  have  become  clearer  to  the  world  since  the 
publication,  in  1890,  of  Sir  Walter's  Journal.  No 
one  can  read  the  private  record  of  that  brave  fight, 
saddened  by  domestic  loss,  by  failing  health,  yet 
courageously  maintained  until  the  last,  without  being 
moved  to  a  depth  of  reverent  admiration  and  affection 
for  Scott's  own  personal  character ;  without  amaze- 
ment at  his  marvelous  power  over  himself  and  over 
his  pen.  At  last  the  struggle  ended.  After  his 
return  from  a  Continental  tour,  taken  in  the  vain 
hope  of  restoring  health  to  mind  and  body,  he  died 
peacefully  in  his  home  at  Abbotsford,  September  21, 
1832,  surrounded  by  his  children  and  faithful  depend- 
ents. He  was  buried  in  Dry  burgh  Abbey. 

Scott  possessed  in  a  remarkable  degree  the  rare 
power  of   grasping   life,  as   it   were,  with    the   bare 
hand  ;  of  learning  by  a  shrewd  insight 
Soot*'8  into  men's  lives,  and  by  a  healthy  fellow- 

ship with  Nature  in  all  her  moods.  With 
this  faculty,  he  had  the  gift  of  telling  what  he  saw. 
In  English  literature,  Chaucer  had  this  power, 
Spenser  had  not :  Shakespeare  is  the  supremest 
instance  of  it  in  any  literature,  while  in  Milton  it  is 
comparatively  absent. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       341 

The  distinctive  features  of  the  poetry  of  Scott  are 
ease,  rapidity  of  movement,  a  spirited  flow  of  narra- 
tive that  holds  our  attention,  an  ont-of- 
doors  atmosphere  and  power  of  natural 
description,  an  occasional  intrusion  of  a  gentle  per- 
sonal sadness  ;  and  but  little  more.  The  subtle  and 
mystical  element,  so  characteristic  of  the  poetry  of 
Wordsworth  and  Coleridge,  is  not  to  be  found  in 
that  of  Scott,  while  in  lyrical  power  he  does  not 
approach  Shelley.  We  find  instead  an  intense  sense 
of  reality  in  all  his  natural  descriptions  ;  it  surrounds 
them  with  an  indefinable  atmosphere,  because  they 
are  so  transparently  true.  Scott's  first  impulse  ;.n 
the  direction  of  poetry  was  given  him  from  the  study 
of  the  German  ballads,  especially  Bflrger's  Lenore,  of 
which  he  made  a  translation.  As  his  ideas  widened, 
he  wished  to  do  for  Scottish  Border  life  what  Goethe 
had  done  for  the  ancient  feudalism  of  the  Rhine. 
He  was  at  first  undecided  whether  to  choose  prose  or 
verse  as  his  medium,  but  a  legend  was  sent  him  by  . 
the  Countess  of  Dalkeith,  with  a  request  that  he 
would  put  it  in  ballad  form.  Having  thus  the  frame- 
work for  his  purpose,  he  went  to  work,  and  The  Lay 
of 'the  Last  Minstrel  was  the  result."  It  became  at 
once  extremely  popular,  and  we  are  told  that  "  Scott 
was  astonished  at  his  own  success."  This  induced 
him  to  make  literature  his  profession,  and  by  1813  he 
had  published  Marmion,  The  Lady  of  the  Lake,  and 

*  Coleridge's  poem  of  Chrittubtl  was  the  immediate  inspira- 
tion of  this  poem.  Scott  says,  "It  is  to  Mr.  Coleridge  I  am 
bound  to  make  the  acknowledgment  due  from  a  pupil  to  his 
master." 


342       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

RoJceby.  The  battle  scene  in  Marmion  has  been 
called  the  most  Homeric  passage  in  modern  literature, 
and  his  description  of  "The  Battle  of  Beal  an  Duine," 
in  The  Lady  of  the  Lake  is  an  exquisite  piece  of 
narration  from  the  gleam  of  the  spears  in  the  thicket 
to  the  death  of  Roderick  Dhu  at  its  close.  In  the 
deepest  sense  Scott  is  one  with  the  spirit  of  his  time 
in  his  grasp  of  fact,  in  that  looking  steadily  at  the 
object,  which  Wordsworth  had  fought  for  in  poetry, 
and  which  Carlyle  has  advocated  in  his  philosophy. 
He  is  allied,  too,  to  that  broad  sympathy  for  man 
which  lay  closest  to  the  heart  of  the  age's  literary 
expression.  Wordsworth's  part  is  to  inspire  an 
interest  in  the  lives  of  men  and  women  about  us  ; 
Scott's,  to  enlarge  the  bounds  of  our  sympathy  beyond 
the  present  and  to  people  the  silent  centuries. 
Shelley's  inspiration  is  hope  for  the  future  ;  Scott's  is 
reverence  for  the  past. 

Scott  wrote  twenty-three  novels  in  fourteen  years. 
He  wrote  them  during  the  faithful  discharge  of  the 

duties  of  his  profession,  among  the  pres- 

As  a  novelist.  - ,      .  ...  ,  .         ..       , 

sure  of  business  anxieties,  and  in  spite  of 

all,  found  time  for  the  exercise  of  a  most  charming 
and  open-hearted  hospitality  to  all  who  sought  his 
friendship.  He  may  be  said  to  have  created  the  his- 
torical novel.  Fielding  and  others  had  excelled  in  the 
portrayal  of  daily  life  and  manners,  and,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  there  were  writers  who  had  attempted 
in  fiction  the  romantic  and  the  marvelous,  but  only 
Shakespeare  himself  had  so  reanimated  historical 
characters  with  the  spirit  of  life  and  action  that  they 
*«em  to  be  once  more  in  living  presence  among  us. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATUBJB       343 

Scott  stands  alone  in  that  branch  of  literary  work. 
Others  have  made,  it  may  be,  one  great  success  in  the 
novel  of  history ;  such  as  Thackeray  in  Henry  Es- 
mond, George  Eliot  in  Romola,  and  Robert  Louis 
Stevenson  in  The  Master  of  Ballantrae  ;  but  Scott 
has  brought  alike  the  times  of  the  Crusaders  and  of 
the  Stuarts  before  us  ;  he  has  peopled  the  land  of 
Palestine  and  the  hills  of  Scotland,  the  forests  of 
England  and  the  borders  of  the  Rhine,  for  our  edifi- 
cation and  delight.  Paladin  and  peasant,  earl  and 
yeoman,  kings  and  their  jesters,  bluff  men-at-arms 
and  gentle  bower  maidens,  all  spring  into  life  again 
at  the  touch  of  the  "Great  Enchanter."  How  bare 
would  be  our  mental  pictures  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
were  we  deprived  of  the  scenes  in  Kenilworth  in 
which  she  stands  before  us  alive  forever  in  her  wrath, 
as  Leicester's  injured  queen,  or  yielding  to  those 
more  womanly  touches  of  feeling  as  she  listens  to  the 
sympathy  of  her  women  or  of  her  "  Cousin  Hunsdon." 
The  wonderful  charm  which  the  unfortunate  Queen  of 
Sfcots  had  for  all  who  approached  her  would  be  harder 
to  realize  were  it  not  that,  as  we  read  The  Abbot, 
we  too  succumb  for  a  while  to  its  power,  and  feel 
that,  with  Roland  Graeme,  we  could  die  for  her, 
right  or  wrong.  There  is  no  doubt  that  Scott  is 
often  historically  inaccurate.  He  takes  liberties,  as 
did  his  great  master  Shakespeare,  with  place  and 
with  facts  ;  but  he  has  the  power  to  humanize  for  us 
the  people  about  whom  he  writes  ;  he  puts  a  spirit 
and  a  soul  into  the  dry  facts  of  history,  and  gives 
them  by  his  imagination  the  very  breath  of  life. 
History  alone  hardly  helps  us  to  realize  the  burning 


344       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

zeal  felt  by  the  Crusaders  for  the  recovery  of  the 
Holy  Sepulcher,  or  the  general  detestation  of  the  Jew 
in  England,  as  elsewhere  on  the  Continent.  We 
must  go  to  The  Talisman  and  Ivanhoe  to  learn  what 
it  was  to  journey  with  Kenneth  and  Saladin  over  the 
desert ;  to  feast  as  did  the  Black  Knight  with  Robin 
Hood  in  Sherwood  Forest,  and  to  feel  our  hearts 
thrill  with  the  outlaws  as  we  do  homage  to  Richard 
of  the  Lion  Heart.  But  it  is  not  only  in  the  field  of 
history  that  the  "  magic  wand "  has  power.  In  the 
novel  of  simple  daily  life,  in  a  time  nearer  to  Scott's 
own  day,  he  is  perhaps  even  happier  in  his  vivid  pic- 
tures. Nowhere  has  he  more  touchingly  portrayed 
the  life  of  Scotland's  people  than  in  The  Heart  of 
Midlothian,  that  story  so  dear  to  Scottish  men  and 
women.  Here  Scott  touches  both  extremes ;  the 
Queen  and  the  Duke  of  Argyle,  and  the  lowly  peas- 
ant maiden,  strong  in  her  cause  and  in  her  truth  ; 
and  what  a  picture  is  their  meeting  !  I 

When  we  review,  therefore,  the  enormous  range  *v 
and  the  high  average  excellence  of  Scott's  work  in 
fiction,  and  remember  the  ease  and  rapidity  with 
which  it  was  produced,  we  feel  that  he  exhibits  a 
creative  force  rare  even  among  the  great  geniuses  of 
the  literature. 

Scott's  sense  of  humor  was  keen,  and  his  own  enjoy- 
ment of  it  cannot  be  doubted.  Many  scenes  in  Red- 
gauntlet,  The  Antiquary,  or  Old  Mortality,  are  full 
of  genuine  fun  ;  and  the  character  of  Caleb  Balder- 
stone,  in  The  Bride  of  Lammermoor,  is  unsurpassed 
of  its  kind. 

Scott  works  in  the  primary  colors.     He  is  not  in« 


tense,  he  does  not  question  deeply,  or  analyze  motives. 
He  does  not  excel  in  that  morbid  anat- 
tomy  of  emotion  which  has  become  the 
fashion  with  many  novelists  of  this  present  age  of 
so-called  superior  culture  and  advanced  ideas.  He 
thinks  that  life  is  good,  and  that  there  is  wholesome 
enjoyment  to  be  gained  from  action.  He  admires 
honor  and  courtesy  and  bravery  among  men,  and 
beauty  and  gentleness  and  modesty  among  women. 
The  greatness  and  the  goodness  of  Scott  must  ever 
appeal  to  us,  the  charm  and  glow  of  his  verse  delight 
us.  The  Waverley  Novels  are  the  splendid  witness  of 
the  breadth,  sympathy,  and  purity  of  one  of  the 
great  creative  intellects  of  our  literature,  worthy, 
indeed,  of  a  place  among  the  immortals,  side  by  side 
with  Chaucer  and  nearest  to  the  feet  of  Shakespeare 
himself. 

STUDY  LIST 
SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 

[The  reader  of  Scott  requires  neither  lists  of  recommended 
works  nor  helps  to  study ;  any  right-minded  person  does  not 
need  encouragement,  he  will  simply  go  on  and  enjoy.  It  is 
almost  equally  unnecessary  to  obtrude  any  list  for  school  pur- 
poses ;  the  chief  difficulty  being  the  great  wealth  from  which 
to  select.  A  few  poems  are,  however,  given  as  among  the  most 
appropriate  ;  the  novels  will  probably  be  relegated,  atany  rate, 
to  outside  reading.] 

1.  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  Marmion,  The  Lady  of 
the  Lake. 

2.  SHORTER  POEMS.     "  Cadyow  Castle,"  given  with  notes  in 
Hales'  Longer  English  Poems.     The  songs  may  be  picked  out 
from  the  poems  and  taken  as  a  separate  study,  or  see  Tlie  Lyrics 


346       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

and  Ballads  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  edited  by  Andrew  Lang. 
[The  editor's  Introduction  is  most  spirited  and  delightful.] 

3.  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.  Lockhart's  Life  of  Scott,  3 
vols.,  and  Scott's  Journal,  are  the  best  authorities  ;  the  short 
lives  of  Scott  are  unsatisfactory.  Carlyle's  Essay  on  Scott  may 
be  read  as  much  for  the  light  it  throws  on  Carlyle's  limitations 
as  for  its  view  of  Scott,  which  in  places  is  open  to  serious 
criticism.  3  See  also  Oliphant's  Literary  History  of  Englaiid. 
and  Shairp's  Aspects  of  Poetry,  pp.  133, 194. 


THOMAS    DE    QUINCEY. — 1785-1859 

Thomas  De  Quincey  impresses  us  as  some  being 
from  another  planet,  who  never  entirely  domesticated 

himself  on  our  earth.     We  picture  him 
Appearance  _  ... 

and  char-       as  an  alien  creature,  gliding  timorously 

acter*  and  obscurely  among  the  mass  of  ordi- 

nary men,  remote  himself  from  their  lives  and  ambi- 
tions, yet  observing  them  with  the  curiosity  of  a 
stranger  and  retiring  to  meditate  upon  the  meaning 
of  their  acts  and  ways.  Even  his  appearance  had 
something  eccentric  and  elfish.  He  is  described  by 
those  who  knew  him  as  frail,  withered,  and  diminu- 
tive (he  was  scarcely  more  than  five  feet  high),  his 
garments  often  strangely  assorted,  his  face  lined  with 
innumerable  wrinkles,  gathered  "  thickly  around  the 
curiously  expressive  and  subtle  lips."  *  But  the 
forehead  was  lofty,  the  eyes  deep-set  and  gentle  ;  for 
this  fragile  little  body  was  the  house  of  an  acute  and 

*  For  descriptions  of  De  Quincey,  see  the  account  of  "Papa- 
verius  "  in  The  Book  Hunter,  by  J.  H.  Burton;  Personal  Recol. 
lections  of  De  Quincey,  by  J.  R.  Findlay,  and  llasson's  Dt 
Quincey  in  English  Men  of  Letters  Series. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       347 

unwearying  intellect,  stored  with  curious  spoils  from 
a  lifetime  of  varied  reading. 

The  strangeness  of  his  way  of  living  sets  him  still 
more  apart  from  other  men.  He  was  an  opium-eater, 
a  philosopher,  with  the  impassive,  deeply  contempla- 
tive spirit  of  an  Oriental  ;  much  of  his  life  slipped 
away  in  dreams.  His  "natural  inclination  to  a  soli- 
tary life  "  was  fostered  and  increased  by  the  use  of 
that  terrible  drug,  which  admitted  him  to  the  dream- 
life  of  those  trances,  to  that  inward  life  of  vision,  he 
has  so  vividly  described.  At  times  he  came  out  into 
the  light  and  mixed  with  his  kind,  but  he  seems  to 
have  required  solitude  for  the  shaping  and  perfecting 
of  his  thought.  "  No  man,"  he  writes,  "  will  ever 
unfold  the  capacities  of  his  own  intellect,  who  does 
not  at  least  chequer  his  life  with  solitude.  How  much 
solitude  so  much  power."  * 

An  acquaintance  with  De  Quincey's  life  but 
deepens  our  impression  of  him  as  an  eccentric 
dreamer  and  recluse.  We  read  of  his  morbid  dread 
of  being  pursued,  we  follow  him  in  his  solitary  wan- 
derings, and  see  him  haunting  the  streets  of  Edin- 
burgh, when  the  town  is  asleep,  thinking  his  own 
unimaginable  thoughts.  The  true  life  of  De  Quin- 
cey  is  that  wonderful  inner  life  of  thought  and 
vision  into  which  we  cannot  penetrate;  the  outward 
events  of  his  singular  history  must  be  here  passed 
over  with  the  merest  mention.  Thomas 
lceys  De  Quincey  was  the  son  of  a  merchant 
of  literary  tastes,  and  was  born  in  Man- 
chester in  1785.  His  father  died  when  De  Quincey 
was  in  his  seventh  year.  His  mother  appears  to  have 
*Su,»piriaDeProfundis:  "  Dreaming." 


348       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

been  a  woman  of  high  character  and  intelligence, 
but  inclined  to  be  over-rigid  and  unsympathetic.  He 
early  distinguished  himself  in  the  classics,  becoming 
famous  for  his  Latin  verses,  and  being  able,  it  is  said, 
to  converse  easily  in  Greek  at  fifteen.  He  ran  away 
from  the  Manchester  Grammar  School,  to  which  he 
had  been  sent  in  1800,  finding  the  commercial  air  of 
the  town  "  detestable,"  and  the  life  of  the  school 
uncongenial  and  monotonous.  After  some  months  of 
wandering  in  North  Wales  he  made  his  way  to  Lon- 
don, where  he  passed  about  a  year  in  an  aimless, 
vagrant  existence;  haunting  the  streets  and  city 
parks,  and  coming  in  contact  with  the  darker  side  of 
the  great  capital.  Having  become  reconciled  to  his 
family,  he  was  sent  to  Worcester  College,  Oxford,  in 
1803,  where  he  remained  for  five  years.  It  was  dur- 
ing his  stay  at  Oxford  that  he  began  the  use  of  opium; 
taking  it,  however,  in  moderation  as  an  occasional 
means  of  mental  exhilaration.  He  also  began  a  more 
systematic  study  of  German  and  English  literature, 
his  young  enthusiasm  fastening  especially  on  Words- 
worth and  Coleridge,  whom  he  recognized  as  having, 
in  his  own  time,  restored  the  ancient  greatness  of 
English  poetry.  He  longed  to  know  Coleridge  per- 
sonally, and  in  1807  succeeded  in  meeting  him  at 
Bristol,  making  the  acquaintance  of  Wordsworth 
later  in  the  same  year.  After  leaving  Oxford  (1809), 
be  settled  near  Wordsworth  in  the  Lake  District  at 
Town  End,  Grasmere.  Except  for  occasional  inter- 
vals this  continued  to  be  his  home  for  over  twenty 
years.  Here  he  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  the 
"  Lakists,"  especially  Coleridge  ;  pored  over  German 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       349 

metaphysics,  and  indulged  his  passion  for  walking. 
In  1813,  being  "attacked  by  a  most  appalling  irrita- 
tion of  the  stomach,"  he  greatly  increased  his  use  of 
opium,  bringing  down  upon  himself  those  terrible 
experiences  which  he  has  preserved  for  us  in  his 
I  Confessions.  In  1816  he  married  a  young  country 
girl,  Margaret  Simpson,  whose  father  owned  a 
neighboring  farm.  He  began  to  be  embarrassed 
for  money,  and  after  reducing  his  supply  of  opium 
by  desperate  efforts,  he  became  the  editor  of  a 
provincial  journal.  His  literary  career 
really  began,  however,  in  1821,  with  the 
appearance,  in  the  London  Magazine, 
of  his  Confessions  of  an  English  Opium  Eater. 
The  novelty  of  the  subject,  the  unsparing  frankness 
of  these  self-revelations,  and,  we  may  assume,  their 
wonderful  style  and  poetic  imagery,  secured  for  the 
new  writer  an  immediate  success.  From  this  time 
De  Quincey  was  distinctively  a  writer  for  magazines, 
being  connected  during  the  forty  years  of  his  literary 
life  with  BlackwoocTs  Magazine,  Taifs  Magazine, 
JBbgg's  Weekly  Instructor,  and  others.  His  first 
contribution  to  JBlackwood's,  a  translation  of  Less- 
ing's  Laocoon,  appeared  in  1826,  and  his  relations 
with  that  magazine  led  to  his  settling  in  Edinburgh  in 
1830.  He  lived  in  various  lodging-houses  in  the  town 
itself,  or  in  a  cottage  in  the  outskirts  at  Lasswade  ;  a 
shy,  obscure  scholar,  full  of  a  winning  grace  and 
charm  ;  a  marvelous  talker  when  he  was  in  the 
mood  ;  a  lover  of  children  ;  with  all  his  oddities,  a 
man  of  gentle  and  affectionate  nature.  The  most 
important  of  De  Quincey's  last  labors  was  the  editing 


350       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

of  a  collected  edition  of  his  works  which  began  to 
appear  in  1853.*  For  the  last  two  years  of  his  life 
his  strength  was  failing  ;  the  complete  edition  of  his 
works  was  nearly  finished  when  he  was  taken  with 
his  last  illness,  and  died  on  the  8th  of  December, 
1859. 

In  actual  years  De  Quincey  was  just  halfway  be- 
tween Wordsworth  and  Macaulay,  and  the  fact  is 
suggestive  of  his  general  relation  to  literary  history. 
_  _  .  Early  admii-ation  and  personal  friendship 
as  man  of  connect  him  with  Wordsworth  and  his 
etters.  great  contemporaries.  His  affinity  with 
Coleridge  is  especially  close,  and  with  Coleridge 
he  was  instrumental  in  bringing  German  literature 
and  philosophy  into  England.  On  the  other  hand, 
he  is  associated  with  the  rise  of  the  new  periodical 
literature,  and  in  that  movement  Macaulay  had  an 
important  place.  Although  De  Quincey  was  fifteen 
years  Macaulay's  senior,  the  two  men  became  con- 
tributors to  the  periodicals  almost  at  the  same  time,  for 
De  Quincey  was  thirty-six  when  he  published  his  Con- 
fessions, and  Macaulay  but  twenty-five  when,  three 
years  later,  his  "  Milton  "  appeared  in  the  Edinburgh 
Review.  De  Quincey,  therefore,  while  near  in  many 
ways  to  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge,  is  the  immediate 
predecessor  of  the  two  great  essayists,  Macaulay  and 
Carlyle.  With  Lamb,  Hazlitt,  Jeffrey,  and  Sydney 

*  The  first  collected  edition  of  De  Quincey  was  published 
by  Ticknor  &  Fields  (now  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.),  and  ap- 
peared in  1851-52.  De  Quincey  furnished  Mr.  J.  T.  Fields, 
under  whose  supervision  the  work  appeared,  with  some  assist 
ance  for  this  edition. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODEBN  LITERATURE       351 

Smith,  De  Quincey  belongs  to  that  group  ot  essay- 
writers  who  were  making  an  era  in  criticism.  De 
Quincey's  relation  to  this  rising  periodical  literature 
may  be  compared  to  that  which  Addison  held  to  the 
journals  of  his  time,  but  between  the  work  of  the 
two  essayists  there  is  a  difference,  suggestive  of  the 
century  of  growth  that  lies  between.  De  Quincey's 
essays  are  longer  and  more  elaborate  than  those  of 
Addison;  more  learned,  often  more  impassioned  and 
poetic,  and  above  all,  they  have  a  greater  diversity 
of  subject  and  of  style.  This  diversity  may  be  due  in 

part  to  the  widening  intereats  and  grow- 

His  diversity, 
ing  cultivation    of   the   reading  public, 

but  it  is  more  directly  and  naturally  attributable  to 
the  many-sidedness  of  De  Quincey  himself.  He  was 
at  the  same  time  a  born  student  and  book-lover  and 
a  close  and  inquisitive  observer  of  life.  He  delighted 
in  intellectual  subtleties  and  fine-drawn  analysis,  and 
yet  possessed  all  that  passion  for  style,  that  pleasure 
of  the  artist  in  effects  of  word-melody,  which  is  em- 
phatically the  endowment  of  the  poet.  Although 
these  varied  elements  of  De  Quincey's  genius  are 
constantly  intermingled  in  a  single  essay,  yet  one  or 
the  other  of  them  commonly  predominates,  according 
to  the  nature  of  the  subject,  sometimes  to  the  entire 
exclusion  of  the  rest.  Thus  the  reminiscences  of  the 
Lake  poets,  or  the  autobiographical  sketches,  are,  for 
the  most  part,  the  outcome  of  De  Quincey's  power 
to  observe  ;  his  essays  on  such  widely  separated 
subjects  as  theology,  political  economy,  Greek  poetry, 
English  politics,  and  German  metaphysics,  attest  the 
range  of  his  scholarship  ;  while  still  other  sides  of 


852       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

his  nature  are  revealed  in  the  fantastic  humor  of  his 
Murder  Considered  as  One  of  the  Fine  Arts,  in  the 
narrative  skill  of  The  Flight  of  a  Tartar  Tribe,  or  in 
the  prose-poetry  of  his  Levana  and   Our  Ladies  of 
Sorrow.     And  in  the  essays,  the  style,  adapting  itself 
to  the  subject,  ranges  from  simple,  unadorned  expo- 
sition   to    impassioned    apostrophes,   or    delicately 
modulated  strains  of  melody,  filled  with  a  dim  and 
His  place       visionary  beauty,  which,  like  the  influ- 
in  English     ence  of  poetry,  evades  the  last  analysis. 
prose.  This  change,  from  the  plainer  and  less 

inspired  prose  of  the  eighteenth-century  essayists  to 
De  Quincey's  more  highly  wrought  and  emotional 
manner,  is  analogous  to  that  which  had  taken  place 
in  poetry  at  a  somewhat  earlier  period.  The  differ- 
ence between  Addison  and  De  Quincey  is  comparable 
to  that  between  Pope  and  Collins,  or  Coleridge. 
Moreover,  De  Quincey  shares  with  some  latter  eight- 
eenth-century poets  the  tendency  to  skip  over  his 
immediate  predecessors  and  take  for  his  models 
Jeremy  Taylor,  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  and  the  great 
masters  of  the  yet  earlier  times.*  Each  of  De  Quin- 
cey's great  successors  in  the  history  of  English  prose 
has  added,  in  his  own  way,  to  its  resources  and  capa- 
bilities j  each  has,  perhaps,  surpassed  him  in  certain 
directions,  yet  he  maintains  undistui'bed  his  suprem- 
acy in  that  "visionary  dreamland,"  in  which,  says 
Leslie  Stephen,  "he  is  unrivaled. "f 

The   appreciation    of    the   peculiar   flavor  of   De 

"  *  F.  Leslie  Stephen's  "  Life  of  De  Quincey"  in  Dictionary 
of  National  Biography, 
f  Ibid. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       353 

Quincey's  writings  must  be  gained  from  the  sympa- 
thetic reading  of  his  works.  His  Murder  Considered 
as  One  of  the  Fine  Art*  is  not  a  tragic 
masterpiece  like  Swift's  Modest  Pro-  £eor<gincey'8 
posal,  with  which  it  is  usually  compared, 
but,  lacking  the  stifled  wrath  and  pity  which  under- 
lie that  terrible  arraignment,  it  is  more  buoyantly 
humorous,  unweighted  by  the  revolting  elements 
which  give  to  Swift's  satire  a  painful  and  hideous 
incongruity.  When  De  Quincey  leaves  his  "  admi- 
rable fooling,"  with  its  playful  irony  on  the  cant  of 
aesthetic  criticism,  to  tell  the  story  of  certain  "  mem- 
orable murders,"  the  style  becomes  more  simple  and 
serious,  and  we  come  under  the  spell  of  his  wonder- 
ful power  of  narrative.  Then,  as  in  The  Flight  of  a 
Tartar  Tribe,  or  the  murder  story  of  The  Avenger, 
we  feel  that  this  great  essayist  was,  within  the  brief 
limits  he  set  himself,  a  master  of  the  art  of  story- 
writing.  But  it  is  when  De  Quincey  invades  the 
province  of  the  poet  or  of  the  musician,  that  his  work 
becomes  most  distinctive.  In  his  "  dream-fugues,"  or 
dream-fantasies,  he  seems  less  anxious  to  impart 
certain  definite  ideas  than  to  produce  a  positive 
emotional  impression  by  the  effect  of  his  composition 
as  a  whole.  Thus  in  parts  of  his  Confessions  of  an 
English  Opium  Eater,  or  his  Suspiria  de  Profundis, 
as  in  his  Dream-Fugue  on  the  theme  of  Sudden  Death, 
his  appeal  is  not  primarily  to  the  understanding. 
And  so  marvelous  is  the  power  of  melodious  utter- 
ance, of  imagery  which  excites  and  expands  the 
imagination  by  its  very  vagueness,  of  words  steeped 
in  the  odors  of  association,  that  De  Quincey  achieves 


354       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

this  emotional  effect  with  but  little  aid  from  exact 
thought. 

Perhaps,  on  the  whole,  it  is  as  a  master  of  rhetoric 
that  De  Quincey  is  most  admirable.  Like  a  skillful 

organist  he  knows  all  the  stops  and  com- 
His  style.         .  °     .  ... 

bmations   ot  his  wonderful  instrument  ; 

yet  so  skillful  is  he  that  at  times  our  attention 
wanders  from  the  theme  in  our  admiration  of  the 
dexterity  of  the  performer.  Even  in  dealing  with 
such  a  subject  as  the  story  of  Joan  of  Arc,  conse- 
crated beyond  all  the  artifices  of  rhetoric  by  pathos, 
nobility,  and  wonder,  he  is  able  to  indulge  in  pass- 
ages, which,  brilliant  as  they  are  as  bits  of  rhetorical 
"  bravura,"  are  apt  to  impress  us  as  a  tour  de  force. 
This  careful  elaboration  of  the  style  tends  to  leave 
us  admiring,  but  cold.  Professor  Masson  remarks 
that  the  motive  force  in  De  Quincey  was  intellectual 
rather  than  moral,  and  the  distinction  explains  that 
touch  of  self-consciousness,  that  lack  of  the  highest 
earnestness  and  sincerity  which  at  times  we  instinc- 
tively recognize  in  his  work.  Thackeray's  loving- 
kindness  and  compassion,  Carlyle's  ardent  singleness 
of  purpose,  when  he  is  truest  to  himself,  are  the 
expressions  of  moral  qualities,  and  those  writers 
move  us  as  De  Quincey  does  not,  because  we  respond 
to  the  language  of  a  profounder  and  more  genuine 
emotion.  "  From  my  birth,"  says  De  Quincey,  "  I  was 
made  an  intellectual  creature,  and  intellectual  in  the 
highest  sense  my  pursuits  and  pleasures  have  been." 

While  this  preponderance  of  the  intellectual  over 
the  more  purely  moral  side  acts  as  a  limitation  on  De 
Quincey's  power  to  satisfy  all  our  needs,  few  English 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       355 

prose  writers  are  more  worthy  of  study.  Delightful 
in  his  humor,  fascinating  in  his  narrative,  wonderful 
in  the  intricate  perfection  of  his  sentences,  influential 
as  the  reviver  of  an  impassioned  and  musically  modu- 
lated style,  De  Quincey  has  taken  his  place  among 
the  great  masters  of  English  prose. 


STUDY  LIST 
THOMAS  DE  QUINCEY 

1.  The  following  essays  may  be  bad  in  convenient  form  in 
the  Selection*  from.  De  Quincey,  by  Henry  H.  Belfield  (Leach, 
Shewell  &  Sauborn) :  "Joan  of  Arc,"  "The  English  Mail 
Coach"  (Abridged),   "  Levana  and  our  Ladies  of  Sorrow" 
(taken  from  the  Suspina  de  Profundis),  and  "  Dinner,  Real  or 
Reputed  ''  (Abridged).     The  Confessions  of  an  English  Opium- 
Eater  has  been  recently  published  (1896),  with  introduction  and 
notes  by  Mark  Houston  (Bell's  English  Classics).    The  papers 
on  Murder  Considered  as  One  of  the  Fine  Arts  are  of  course  in- 
dispensable in  any  study  of  De  Quincey,  not  only  as  examples  of 
irony  and  humor,  but  as  containing  superb  narrative  passages. 
A  most  charming  example  of  De  Quincey's  humor  will  be 
found  in  the  third  chapter  of  the  Autobiography ;  The  Flight 
of  a  Tartar  Tribe  (cheap  school  edition,  American  Book  Co.). 

2.  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM. — Thomas  De  Quincey ;  Hit 
Life  and  Writings,  with   Unpublished  Correspondence,  by  Alex- 
ander H.    Japp  (H.    A.  Page),   2  vols.,  1881.     De   Quincey 
Memorials,  Being  Letters  and  Other  Records,  here  First  Pub- 
lished, etc.;  edited  with  Introductions,  Notes,  and  Narrative, 
by  Alexander  H.  Japp  (H.  A.    Page),  1891.     A  shorter  and 
very  excellent  life  of  De  Quincey  has  been  written   by  Pro- 
fessor Masson  for  the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series.     The 
author  had  the   advantage    of  having  met  De  Quincey  in 
Edinburgh.     Some  personal  details  are  also  to  be  found  in 
Burton's  Book  Hunter,  where  De  Quincey  is  described  in  the 


356        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

essay  "  A  Vision  of  Mighty  Book  Hunters,"  under  the  name 
of  "  Papaverius  (the  Opium-Eater) "  ;  in  Christopher  North, 
A  Memoir  of  John  Wilson,  by  Mrs.  Gordon  ;  and  in  the 
2-ersonal  Recollections  ofDe  Quincey,  by  J.  R.  Findlay.  Leslie 
Stephen's  essay  on  "  De  Quincey "  in  Hours  in  a  Library, 
(First  Series),  is  valuable,  but  inclined  to  be  severe  and  unsym- 
pathetic ;  v.,  also,  his  article  on  "  De  Quincey"  in  the  Dic- 
tionary of  National  Biography.  For  study  and  analysis  ofDe 
Quincey's  style,  v.  Minto's  Manual  of  English  Prose  and  T.  W. 
Hunt's  English  Prose  and  Prose  Writers. 

CHARLES    LAMB. — 1775-1834 

Charles  Lamb — called  by  Coleridge  the  "  gentle- 
hearted  Charles"* — was  born  in  London,  1775.  He 
was  the  youngest  of  three  children  ;  his  family 
were  in  poor  circumstances,  his  father  being  little 
more  than  a  servant  to  a  Mr.  Salt  of  the  Inner 
Temple.  From  his  eighth  to  his  fifteenth  year, 
Charles  studied  as  a  "blue-coat  boy"  at  Christ's 
Hospital,  and  here  there  sprung  up  between  him  and 
his  fellow-student  Coleridge  a  friendship  which 
proved  lifelong.  On  leaving  school  he  obtained  a 
clerkship  in  the  South  Sea  House,  and  two  years 
later  in  the  India  Office.  His  father's  health  failed, 
and  Charles  became  the  chief  support  of  the  little 
family.  But  the  quiet  of  their  household  was  soon 
broken  by  a  terrible  event.  Mary,  Charles  Lamb's 
sister,  was  seized  with  violent  insanity,  and  killed 
their  mother  (1796).  Mary  was  taken  to  an  asylum, 
where  she  recovered,  and  Charles  procured  her  release 
on  his  becoming  responsible  for  her  guardianship. 

*  See  Coleridge's  poem. ' '  This  Lime  Tree  Bower  my  Prison, " 
in  which  several  references  to  Lamb  occur. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       357 

Thenceforth,  after  his  father's  death,  he  devoted 
himself  to  the  care  of  his  afflicted  sister.  For  inter- 
vals, which  he  called  "  between  the  acts,"  they  lived 
quietly  in  the  most  devoted  companionship,  Mary 
aiding  in  her  brother's  literary  work,  and  presiding 
at  their  little  receptions,  which  Coleridge  and 
sometimes  Wordsworth  attended.  Then,  again, 
Mary  would  "  fall  ill,"  and  return  for  a  time  to  the 
asylum. 

Through  all  this  strain  and  distress,  and  occasional 
fears  for  himself,  Lamb's  cheerful  and  loving  nature 
saved  him  from  bitterness  and  despair,  and  he  found 
courage  to  work.  He  lived  his  "  happy -melancholy  " 
life,  and  died  quietly  at  London  in  1834.  His  sister, 
whose  name  is  forever  linked  with  his  as  the  object 
of  his  care  and  partner  of  his  literary  work,  survived 
until  1847. 

In  spite  of  daily  work  in  the  office,  and  of  hia 
domestic  troubles,  Lamb  found  time  and  heart  for 
literature.  As  a  boy  he  had  spent  many  odd  hours 
in  the  library  of  Mr.  Salt,  "  browsing  chiefly  among 
the  older  English  authors";  and  he  refers  to  Bridget 
Elia  (Mary  Lamb)  as  "  tumbled  early,  by  accident  or 
design,  into  a  spacious  closet  of  good  old  English 
reading."  This  pi'eference  for  Elizabethan  writers 
endured  through  life,  and  their  style  and  mode  of 
thought  became  in  some  degree  natural  to  himself. 
His  first  venture  was  a  contribution  of  four  sonnets 
to  a  book  of  poems  on  various  subjects  by  his  friend 
Coleridge  (1796).  After  some  minor  works,  he  pub- 
lished John  Woodvil  (1801),  a  tragedy  on  the  early 
Elizabethan  model,  which  was  severely  criticised,  and 


858       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEBA.TUKE 

later  a  farce,  Mr.  H- (1806),  which  failed  on  the 

first  performance. 

His  Specimens  of  English  Dramatic  Poets  who 
Wrote  about  the  Time  of  Shakespeare,  with  notes, 
aroused  new  interest  in  a  great  body  of  writers  then 
largely  neglected,  ana  showed  Lamb  himself  a  critic 
of  keen  natural  insight,  his  suggestions  often  being 
of  more  value  than  the  learned  notes  of  commentators. 
Thus  Lamb,  with  William  Hazlitt,  another  critic  of 
the  time,  helped  in  bringing  about  that  new  era  of 
criticism  in  which  Coleridge  was  the  chief  mover. 
In  1807  appeared  Tales  Founded  on  the  Plays  of 
Shakespeare,  the  joint  work  of  himself  and  his  sister 
Mary.  Lamb  is  best  known,  however,  by  his  essays, 
first  published,  under  the  name  of  Elia,  in  the  London 
Magazine  (founded  1820).  Written  for  the  most  part 
on  trivial  subjects,  with  no  purpose  but  to  please, 
they  bring  us  close  to  the  lovable  nature  of  the  man, 
full,  indeed,  of  sadness,  but  full,  too,  of  a  refined  and 
kindly  humor,  ready  to  flash  out  in  a  pun,  or  to  light 
up  with  a  warm  and  gentle  glow  the  cloud  that  over- 
hangs him.  In  these  essays  we  see  Lamb's  conserva- 
tive spirit  and  hatred  of  change.  His  literary 
sympathies  lay  with  the  past,  and  he  clung  with 
fondness  to  the  memories  of  his  childhood. 

STUDY  LIST 

i 

CHARLES  LAMB 

. 

1.  ESSAYS  OP  E:,IA.  The  following  essays  have  been  selected 
as  among  the  most  enjoyable  and  characteristic :  "  Christ's 
Hospital  Five  and  Thirty  Years  Ago,"  "  The  Two  Races  of 
Men,"  "  The  Old  and  the  New  Schoolmaster,"  "  Valentine's 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE        359 

Day,"  "Modern  Gallantry,"  "Dream  Children;  a  Reverie," 
"Distant  Correspondents,"  "  A  Dissertation  upon  Roast  Pig," 
"  A  Bachelor's  Complaint  of  the  Behavior  of  Married  People," 
"Captain  Jackson."  Show  from  the  above  essays  Lamb's 
fondness  for  the  past,  and  his  kind-heartedness.  What  do  you 
learn  from  these  of  his  own  life  ?  Name  which  you  consider 
the  finest  of  the  character  sketches  among  them.  How  do  you 
think  these  essays  compare  with  those  of  Addison  ? 

2.  CKITIC  AND  POET.     "  On  the  Tragedies  of  Shakespeare,'- 
"  Hester,"  "  The  Old  Familiar  Faces."    Compare  the  spirit  of 
this  characteristic  poem  -with  that  shown  in  certain  of  the 
Essays  of  Elia. 

3.  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.    T.ilfourd's  Final  Memorial* 
of  Charles  Lamb,  Ainger's  Lamb,  English  Men  of  Letters  Series; 
Letters  of  Gharles  Lamb,  edited  by  Ainger,  two  volumes. 

THE    LATER    POETS    OF    THE    REVOLUTION 

The  appalling  plunge  into  murder  and  anarchy 
which  followed  hard  upon  the  triumph  of  the 
Revolutionists  in  France,  shocked  into  a  sudden 
sobriety  much  of  the  vague  enthusiasm  for  the  cause 
of  man.  Thousands  who,  like  Wordsworth  and 
Coleridge,  had  joined  in  the  contagious  outcry  for 
liberty  and  equality,  recoiled  like  them  in  disgust 
from  a  revolution  which  had  brought  the  dregs  of 
society  uppermost,  and  cast  to  the  surface  man's  prim- 
itive baseness  and  cruelty.  In  France  the  towering 
genius  and  ambition  of  Napoleon  were  hurrying  the 
nation  back  into  despotism  ;  in  England,  the  govern- 
ment set  its  face  against  sorely  needed  reforms, 
through  an  unreasoning  fear  that  change  might 
prove  the  invitation  to  a  Reign  of  Terror.  Yet  the 
Revolution  had  none  the  less  begun  a  new  epoch  in 
the  history  of  England  and  of  the  Continent;  in  spite 
of  the  efforts  of  conservative  governments,  its  h'res 


360       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

still  smoldered  everywhere  beneath  the  surface,  ready 
at  a  breath  to  burst  into  flame.  After  the  battle  of 
Waterloo  (1815)  the  great  powers  of  Europe  met  at 
Vienna  and  entered  into  a  compact  known  as  The 
Holy  Alliance.  The  ostensible  object  of  this  alliance 
was  to  promote  peace  and  good  will ;  its  real  pur- 
pose was  to  crush  the  spirit  of  democracy.  It  would 
have  blotted  the  Revolution  out  of  history,  by  reviv- 
ing that  older  Europe  which,  in  reality,  no  congress 
could  restore.  Austria,  under  her  Prime  Minister 
Metternich,  threw  her  whole  weight  on  the  side  of 
absolutism  ;  but  demonstrations  among  the  students 
in  the  German  universities  (1817),  insurrections  in 
Spain  and  Naples,  and  the  heroic  struggles  of  the 
Greeks  under  Turkish  oppression,  showed  that  the 
revolutionary  spirit  was  unextinguished. 

England  was  passing  through  a  critical  period  of 
popular  distress  and  dangerous  discontent.  On  the 
one  hand  a  government  set  in  its  conservatism  ;  on 
the  other  a  people  unsettled  by  new  industrial  con- 
ditions, impoverished  by  over-taxation,  impatient  to 
gain  a  voice  in  their  own  government,  and  brought 
at  length  by  poor  crops  to  the  verge  of  actual  starva- 
tion. The  assembling  of  the  people  for  free  speech 
was  pronounced  illegal,  and  at  a  great  meeting  at 
Manchester,  the  cavalry  charged  upon  the  crowd,  and 
answered  their  petitions  for  a  vote  in  Parliamentary 
elections  with  the  edge  of  the  sword  (1819).  A  year 
later  a  conspiracy  was  formed  to  murder  the  members 
of  the  Cabinet. 

Four  poets — Lord  Byron,  Percy  Bysshe  Shelley, 
Thomas  Campbell,  and  Thomas  Moore — all  born 


CORD     BYRON 


during  the  last  quarter  of  the  preceding  century, 
express  in  greater  or  less  degree  the  spirit  of  this 
time.  Each  was,  in  his  way,  a  poet  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, a  lover  of  liberty,  a  believer  in  progress.  When 
"Wordsworth  and  Coleridge  sang  their  first  paeans  to 
Liberty,  her  white  robes  were  still  stainless,  her  fame 
unspotted.  The  poets  of  this  younger  group  in  their 
early  manhood  had  looked  on  at  the  crimss  com- 
mitted in  her  name;  they  had  breathed  in  an  atmos- 
phere heavy  with  the  sense  of  failure  ;  they  were 
confronted  with  an  oppression  and  misery  calculated 
to  make  them  embittered  and  rebellious. 

In  some  respects,  Lord  Byron,  in  the  po<ver  and 
brilliancy  of  his  genius,  in  his  audacious  2nd  dra- 
matic personality,  thrusts  himself  forward  as  the 
most  truly  representative  poet  of  this  tin?e.  We 
see  in  his  life  and  character  and  work  a  rebellious 
arraignment  of  life,  a  passionate,  impotent  complaint 
against  the  entire  order  of  things, 

George  Gordon  Byron  was  born  in  London,  Jan- 
uary 22,  1788.  The  same  year  saw  the  birth  in 

Germany  of  Arthur  Schopenhauer,  des- 

,       .  Byron, 

tined  to  be  the  great  preacher  to  modern 

times  of  a  philosophy  of  despair.  The  Byrons,  or 
Buruns,  were  thought  to  be  descended  from  a  Scandi- 
navian settler  in  Normandy.  The  family  had  come 
into  England  with  the  Conqueror.  They  were  a  fight- 
ing race  ;  we  find  them  in  the  field  at  Cr6cy,  at  the 
siege  of  Calais,  at  Bosworth,  at  Edgehill.  Ungovern- 
able and  proud,  the  spirit  of  the  Viking  seemed  to 
survive  in  them  ;  and  after  long  generations  they  pro- 
duced a  poet.  Byron  reminds  us  of  the  hero  in  some 


362       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISF  LITEEATUBE 

Greek  tragedy,  born  to  a  heritage  of  guilt  and  suffering. 
His  grand  uncle,  "  the  wicked  lord,"  was  convicted  of 
manslaughter  and,  like  some  of  his  nephew's  miserable 
heroes,  was  cast  out  from  human  society.  The  father 
of  the  poet,  Captain  John  Byron,  knowL  as  "  Mad 
Jack,"  was  a  profligate  and  heartless  spendthrift  ; 
his  mother,  Catherine  Gordon,  who  traced  her  descent 
from  James  I.,  was  a  silly  and  impulsive  woman, 
subject  to  furious  paroxysms  of  temper.  Having 
squandered  his  wife's  fortune,  Captain  Byron  left  her 
in  greatly  straitened  circumstances,  shortly  after  the 
birth  of  their  son.  The  worse  than  fatherless  child 
was  thus  left  wholly  at  the  mercy  of  an  injudicious 
and  passionate  woman,  who  treated  him,  according 
to  her  passing  whims,  with  alternate  harshness  and 
over-indulgence.  Under  these  wretched  conditions 
Byron's  life  began.  He  grew  up  a  spoiled  child, 
passionate,  headstrong,  sullen,  and  defiant.  On  all 
this  was  piled  yet  another  misery — he  was  lame, 
owing  to  the  deformity  in  both  feet ;  and  to  his  vain 
and  morbidly  sensitive  nature  this  misfortune  was  a 
life-long  torture.  In  1798,  by  the  death  of  "the 
wicked  lord,"  he  succeeded  to  the  title  and  family 
estates.  In  1801  he  entered  Harrow,  where  lie  was 
noted  as  a  fighter,  and  acted  as  ringleader  in  a  boyish 
rebellion  against  the  authorities.  Four  years  later 
he  went  to  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  where  he 
led  the  life  of  the  idle  and  dissipated  undergraduate. 
Here  his  "  gyp,"  or  college  servant,  spoke  of  him 
with  respect  as  "  a  young  gentleman  of  tumultuous 
passions."  In  1807  he  published  Hours  of  Idleness,  a 
collection  of  juvenile  poems.  An  unfavorable  review 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       363 

of  this  youthful  venture,  which  had  in  reality  but 
little  merit,  aroused  his  passionate  temper,  and  he 
struck  back  fiercely  in  a  satire  on  English  Bards  and 
Scotch  Reviewers  (1809).  Revolutionist  as  he  was 
by  nature,  Byron  had  a  deep  and  genuine  apprecia- 
tion of  the  historic  greatness  of  Europe,  and  after 
two  years  of  Continental  travel  (1809-1811),  he 
gave  the  world  the  splendid  record  of  his  impressions 
in  the  first  two  cantos  of  Childe  Harold  (1812).  The 
result  was  one  of  the  most  sudden  and  memorable 
successes  in  English  literary  history  ;  in  his  own 
familiar  phrase,  Byron  awoke  one  morning  and  found 
hunself  famous.  The  poetic  star  of  Scott,  who  had 
been  enchanting  the  world  with  his  vigorous  ballads 
of  romance  and  chivalry,  declined  before  the  bright- 
ness of  this  new  luminary.  The  public  turned  from 
tales  of  Border  warfare,  from  the  mailed  knights 
and  moated  castles  of  mediaevalism,  to  enter  under 
Byron's  guidance  the  unfamiliar  regions  of  the  East. 
The  Giaour  (1813)  is  the  first  of  a  succession  of 
Eastern  tales,  in  the  meter  of  Scott,  each  of  which 
increased  the  fever  of  popular  enthusiasm.  In  these 
tales  the  Byronic  hero,  first  outlined  in  Childe 
Harold,  reappears  under  different  names  and  vary- 
ing disguises,  with  significaiit  persistence  in  all  his 
solitary,  joyless,  and  misanthropic  personality. 

In  1815  Byron  married  Miss  Milbanke,  but  after 
about  a  year  they  separated  for  reasons  not  fully 
known.  The  public  turned  furiously  upon  the  man 
it  had  so  lately  idolized,  and  overwhelmed  him  with 
its  sudden  condemnation.  Smarting  under  a  sense 
of  injustice,  Byron  left  England  forever,  pursued 


364       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

across  Europe  by  the  outcry  against  him.  Aftei 
spending  some  time  at  Geneva  under  the  stimulating 
influence  of  Shelley,  he  settled  at  length  on  the 
"  Waves  of  the  Adriatic,  like  the  stag  at  bay  who 
betakes  himself  to  the  waters."  During  this  time  he 
wrote  with  extraordinary  power  and  rapidity,  pro- 
ducing, among  a  great  number  of  other  poems,  the 
remaining  cantos  of  Childe  Harold,  Cain,  Manfred, 
and  Don  Juan.  At  length  he  seemed  to  weary  of 
poetry,  as  he  did  of  everything,  declaring  that  he  did 
not  consider  it  his  "  vocation,"  but  that  if  he  lived  ten 
years,  he  was  determined  to  do  something  in  new 
fields.  His  ardent  and  invincible  spirit  found  the 
way.  Rethrew  himself  into  the  cause  of  the  Greeks, 
then  struggling  against  Turkish  despotism,  and  in 
1823  chartered  a  vessel  and  sailed  from  Genoa  in 
their  aid.  He  reached  Missolonghi,  and  was  made 
Commander-in-chief  of  an  expedition  against  Lepanto. 
But  the  presentiment  of  his  approaching  death  was 
upon  him.  On  his  thirty-sixth  birthday,  while  yet  at 
Missolonghi,  he  composed  some  verses  which  seem 
touched  with  the  spirit  of  prophecy  : 

"  If  thou  regret'st  thy  youth,  why  live? 
The  land  of  honorable  death 
Is  here.    .    . 

Then  look  around,  and  choose  thy  ground 
And  take  thy  rest," 

Death  would  not  spare  him  for  the  soldier's  grave 
he  coveted.  He  was  stricken  with  illness  before  he 
could  take  the  field,  and  died  at  Missolonghi,  April 
19,  1824.  In  his  delirium  he  imagined  that  he  was 
leading  his  Suliotes  at  Lepanto,  and  cried  out '"  For- 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       365 

ward,  forward,  follow  me ! "  At  length,  as  the  lagt 
lethargy  settled  down  upon  his  untamable  and  rest- 
less spirit,  he  said  quietly  to  his  attendant,  "  Now  I 
shall  go  to  sleep."  He  did  not  speak  again. 

The  life  and  work  of  Lord  Byron  were  an  immense 
force  not  only  in  the  history  of  England  but  through- 
out Europe.  His  generation  bailed  him 

,    -     •          ...  j  Byron's  work, 

as  the  voice  of  their  aspirations  and  com- 
plaints. He  uttered  for  them,  in  verse  of  an  indomita- 
ble and  masculine  vigor,  full  of  a  somewhat  declam- 
atory but  magnificent  rhetoric,  their  iconoclasm,  their 
despairs,  their  unbeliefs  ;  and  he  shares  in  both  their 
weakness  and  their  strength.  Probably  no  other  Eng- 
lish poet  ever  won  such  admiration  from  contemporary 
Europe  ;  he  gave  English  literature  a  larger  place  on 
the  Continent,  and  in  Mazzini's  words,  "led  the  genius 
of  Britain  on  a  pilgrimage  throughout  all  Europe."  * 
But  while  realizing  the  importance  of  Byron  in  the 
large  movement  of  democracy  as  a  social  and  political 
force,  our  primary  question  is  rather  as  to  the  per- 
manence and  value  of  his  contributions  to  literature. 
The  world  has  moved  rapidly  away  from  the 
thoughts  and  tastes  of  Byron  and  of  his  day,  but  it  ia 
the  distinction  of  the  great  poets  to  express  not  their 
own  time  merely,  but  that  which  is  common  to  all 
times.  Has  Byron  done  this?  Even  when  judged 
by  the  most  liberal  standards,  it  must  be  admitted 
that  Byron's  poetry  does  not  possess  in  any  great 
measure  that  "  great  antiseptic  "  a  high  excellence  of 
style.  He  is  dashing,  brilliant,  unequal,  effective, 
but  carel«is  of  finish  and  detail  even  to  an  occasional 
*  Essay  on  "  Byron  and  Goethe." 


366       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

slip  in  grammar.  The  movement  of  his  verse  is  nerv- 
ous, strong,  and  free,  but  Shelley  surpasses  him  in 
subtle  lyrical  quality,  and  in  his  inspired  instinct  for 
the  aptest  word.  Yet  we  forget  these  shortcomings 
in  his  immense  vitality  and  ease,  and  when  fairly 
caught  in  the  rapids  of  his  eloquence  we  are  borne 
along  by  the  power  of  the  orator  joined  to  the  power 
of  the  poet.  In  satire,  by  The  Vision  of  Judgment 
and  Don  Juan,  he  towers  above  the  other  moderns 
as  the  successor  of  Dryden  and  of  Pope.  He  has  a 
feeling  for  large  results  ;  his  descriptions  are  bold, 
broad,  and  telling,  and  the  historic  past  of  Europe 
lives  in  his  swelling  lines.  He  is  the  poet  of  the 
mountain-peak,  the  sea,  and  the  tempest.  A  con- 
tempt for  his  fellow-men  mingles  curiously  with  his 
love  of  nature  and  her  solitudes.  Unlike  Words- 
worth, he  does  not  efface  himself  in  her  presence,  but 
finds  a  congenial  spirit  in  her  moods  of  fierceness  and 
of  power. 

For  the  rest,  Byron's  life  and  work  are  the  me- 
morial of  his  imperious  and  colossal  egotism.  His 
demands  on  life  were  enormous,  his  disappointments 
correspondingly  severe.  Napoleon  would  have  made 
the  world  minister  to  his  lust  of  power  ;  Byron,  to 
his  lust  of  pleasure.  I  myself  would  enjoy,  yet  1 
suffer:  this  is  the  sum  of  his  arraignment  of  life.  He 
could  create  but  one  type  of  hero,  because  he  could 
not  escape  from  the  tyranny  of  his  own  personality. 
His  heroes  never  learn  of  suffering,  they  stand  soli- 
tary in  the  midst  of  the  sufferings  of  a  world  in  the 
insatiate  egotism  of  their  own  woes,  sullen  and 
defiant  until  the  last.  There  is  a  sublimity  in  the 


THE  BEGINNING  OP  MODERN  LITERATURE       367 

inveterate  opposition  of  the  individual  will  to  the 
impassive  fatality  of  things  ;  but  in  Byron  this  is 
weakened  by  the  strain  of  selfishness,  and  at  least  a 
suspicion  of  insincerity.  For  Byron's  romantic 
unhappiness  and  mad  dissipations  were  more  condu- 
cive to  popularity  than  Wordsworth's  placid  content- 
ment and  sobriety.  Yet  while  we  may  be  uncertain 
as  to  how  much  of  Byron's  demonstrative  despair  was 
"  playing  to  the  gallery,"  his  devotion  to  liberty  at 
least  was  genuine.  He  could  exclaim  while  others 
doubted  : 

"  Yet  Freedom  !  yet,  thy  banner,  torn  but  flying, 
Streams  like  a  thunderstorm  against  the  wind."  * 

His  faith  in  freedom  glows  in  his  verse,  and  lends 
a  parting  and  consecrating  radiance  to  his  unhappy 
life.  But  his  conception  of  freedom  is  shallow  and 
unregulated  ;  he  confuses  it  with  the  license  to  every 
man  to  do  what  shall  seem  good  in  his  own  eyes. 
"  I  have  simplified  my  politics,"  he  writes,  "  into  an 
utter  detestation  of  all  existing  governments."  His 
heroes  are,  for  the  most  part,  desperate  men,  in 
reckless  revolt  against  the  social  and  moral  laws. 
Haughty,  unyielding,  self -centered,  they  are  rather 
the  foes  to  society  than  its  saviors.  Seliin,  in  The 
Bride  of  Abydos,  boasts  of  his  love  for  freedom  ;  but 
by  freedom  he  means  the  unchecked  license  of  the 
buccaneer,  free  to  sail  where  he  will,  with  a  thousand 
swords  ready  to  destroy  at  his  command.  Byron  is 
without  a  real  social  faith  ;  impatient  to  pull  down, 
he  is  powerless  to  lay  hold  on  any  rational  or  helpful 

*  V.  this  passage,  CWlde  Harold,  canto  IV.  Stanzas  xcvi.- 
scviii. 


868       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEKATUBE 

law  of  life  for  himself  or  for  others.  He  fails  to  see, 
with  Raskin,  that  anarchy  is  eternally  a  law  of  death, 
to  realize  Wordsworth's  joy  in  the  submission  to  the 
highest.  His  Cain,  in  which  the  deepest  and  most 
serious  side  of  his  nature  found  expression,  is  the 
direct  antithesis  of  Wordsworth's  Ode  to  Duty.  It 
is  the  pathos  of  such  a  life  as  that  of  Byron  that  it 
brings  its  own  revenges.  His  mad  revolt  against 
things  as  they  are  becomes,  as  he  grows  older,  but 
more  furious  and  bitter,  until  it  reaches  its  brilliant 
but  terrible  consummation  in  Don  Juan. 

The  want  in  Byron's  poetry  lies  deeper  than  any 
mere  defect  in  manner.  So  far  as  it  fails  to  present 
any  reasonable  and  well-considered  view  of  life  ;  so 
far  as  it  fails  to  be  ennobling,  helpful,  and  inspiring, 
just  so  far  does  it  lack  elements  which  make  for 
permanence.  For  Byron  himself,  where  we  cannot 
admire,  it  is  easy  to  pity  and  to  excuse.  Carlyle 
once  likened  him  to  a  vultui-e,  shrieking  because 
carrion  enough  was  not  given  him  ;  he  was  rather  a 
caged  eagle,  who  in  impotent  protest  beat  out  his  life 
against  the  bars.  The  contest  told  even  on  his  auda- 
cious energy.  Young  as  he  was  he  could  write, 
"  The  dead  have  had  enough  of  life  ;  all  they  want 
is  rest,  and  this  they  implore."  He  would  have  two 
words  put  over  his  grave,  and  no  more  :  Implora 
pace.  The  fascination  of  Byron's  personality,  the 
sadness  of  his  story,  will  enshrine  the  memory  of  the 
man,  a  strong  and  tragic  figure ;  while  by  many  a 
poem,  and  still  more  by  the  superb  vitality  of  many 
a  brilliant  passage,  he  has  secured  a  lasting  place 
among  the  poets  of  his  country. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE        369 

STUDY  LIST 
LORD  BYRON 

Ihe  Prisoner  of  Chilian;  "  There's  not  a  Joy  the  World  Can 
Give;"  Childe  Harold  [Cantos  III.  and  IV.];  selections  from 
Byron  in  Ward's  English  Poets;  "  Lines  on  Completing  His 
Thirty-sixth  Year;"  "She  Walks  in  Beauty  Like  the  Night." 

BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.  A  standard  edition  of  Byron 
1ms  recently  been  edited  by  E.  H.  Coleridge  and  R.  E.  Prothero. 
Nichol's  Byron,  English  Men  of  Letters  Series;  Moore's  Life 
of  Byron,  2  vols.  Swinburne's  "  Essay  on  Wordsworth  and 
Byron  "  in  his  Miscellanies  is  brilliant  and  interesting.  See 
also  Matthew  Arnold's  Introduction  to  his  "Selections  from 
Byron  "  in  Easays  in  Criticism,  second  series;  Jolin  Morley, 
"Byron"  (in  Miscellanies,  vol.  1);  Macaulay,  "Byron"  in 
Essays;  Mazzini,  Byron  and  Goethe. 

PERCY    BYSSHE    SHELLEY. 1792-1822. 

Shelley  stands  with  Byron  as  a  poet  of  revolt;  but 
his  devotion  to  liberty  is  purer,  his  love  for  man 
readier  to  declare  itself  in  deeds  of 
help  and  sympathy,  his  whole  life  en- 
nobled by  loftier  and  more  unselfish  aims.  In  Byron 
we  may  see  the  masculine  element  of  revolt  auda- 
ciously interrogating  earth  and  heaven,  deficient  in 
reverence  and  in  faith,  instant  to  destroy;  in  Shelley 
rather  a  feminine  unworldliness,  erring  through  its 
incapacity  to  adjust  itself  to  the  ways  of  earth;  we 
see  in  him  a  theorist  and  a  dreamer,  building  in  the 
air  his  shimmering  palaces  of  clouds  until  he  "  falls 
upon  the  thorns  of  life."  Trelawney  describes  him 
as  "  blushing  like  a  girl"  at  their  first  meeting,  and 
speaks  of  his  "  flushed,  feminine,  and  artless  face."* 

"Trelawney's  Recollections  of  Last  Days  of  Shelley  and 
Byron,  p.  26. 


370       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Strong  yet  slender  in  figure,  with  sensitive,  almost 
girlish  face,  with  deep  blue  poet  eyes,  and  a  mass 
of  wavy  brown  hair,  early  streaked  with  gray, 
Shelley  in  our  imagination  moves  among  other  men 
as  one  apart.  A  daring  independence  of  mind  dis- 
tinguished him  from  the  first.  It  was  his  nature  to 
accept  nothing  on  the  authority  of  others,  but 
rather  to  question  and  prove  all  things  for  himself. 
He  dreamed  of  what  the  world  should  be  before 
life  had  taught  him  what  it  was,  and  in  the  fervor 
of  his  ideals  of  truth  and  righteousness,  in  his 
"passion  for  reforming  the  world,"* — 3roung  and 
confident,  but  too  often  hasty  and  mistaken, — he 
found  himself  misunderstood  and  at  issue  with  the 
world.  At  Eton,  where  he  was  sent  in  1804,  he  was 
solitary,  shy,  eccentric;  he  did  not  join  in  the 
Cricket  or  football,  and  was  commonly  spoken  of 
by  the  boys  as  "  Mad  Shelley."  The  petty  tyranny 
of  the  fagging  system  moved  him  to  protest,  and 
he  set  on  foot  a  conspiracy  to  suppress  it.  In  his 
school-days,  in  one  of  those  sudden  flashes  of 
prophetic  insight  that  sometimes  illuminate  the 
spirit  in  early  youth,  his  ideal  of  life  came  to  him. 
with  strange  distinctness.  He  tells  us  how  he  then 
made  this  resolve,  weeping  : 

"  I  will  be  wise, 

And  just,  and  free,  and  mild,  if  in  me  lies 
Such  power  ;  for  I  grow  weary  to  behold 
The  selfish  and  the  strong  still  tyrannize 
Without  reproach  or  check.* 

•Dedication  to  The  Revolt  of  Islam. 


THE  BEGINNING  OP  MODERN  LITERATURE       371 

To  a  temperament  so  ardent,  lofty,  and  ill-fitted  for 
conformity  to  the  routine  thought  and  usage  of 
ordinary  men,  life  was  certain  to  prove  but  a  hard 
matter  at  best,  and  Shelley's  youth  was  passed  under 
conditions  which,  for  such  a  nature  as  his,  were 
peculiarly  unfortunate.  His  father,  Sir  Timothj 
Shelley,  a  country  gentleman  in  Sussex,  was  the 
embodiment  of  commonplace  and  prejudiced  con- 
servatism ;  limited  and  bound  by  the  habits  and  tra- 
ditions of  his  class,  it  was  inherently  impossible  for 
him  to  understand  his  son's  character  or  tolerate  his 
aims.  Shelley's  loving  ani  loyal  nature  made  him 
susceptible  to  influence,  but  his  fiery  zeal  and  inde- 
pendent temper  would  not  brook  authority,  and  any 
attempt  to  compel  him  to  act  against  his  convictions 
aroused  in  him  the  spirit  of  the  martyr.  His  conflict 
with  authority  came  but  too  soon.  His  active  mind, 
prone  to  doubt  and  to  inquire,  hurried  him  into  skep- 
ticism, and  in  1811  he  was  expelled  from  Oxford, 
which  he  had  entered  five  months  before,  for  a 
pamphlet  On  the  Necessity  of  Atheism.  Shortly 
after  quitting  Oxford,  he  married  Harriet  West- 
brook,  a  mere  schoolgirl,  who  had  excited  his  pity 
and  sympathy,  and  who  was  decidedly  his  inferior  in 
social  position.  Sir  Timothy,  who  had  been  seriously 
provoked  by  his  incomprehensible  son's  disgrace  at 
Oxford,  was  naturally  incensed  anew  by  this  act  of 
folly,  and  the  two  young  creatures — Shelley  was  but 
nineteen  and  his  girl- wife  three  years  younger — were 
cast  adrift.  After  an  interval,  a  small  allowance  was 
granted  to  them  by  Sir  Timothy  and  Harriet's  father, 
and  they  wandered  from  place  .to  place,  Shelley 


372       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITER ATUKE 

absorbed  in  his  theories,  his  poetry,  and  his  projects 
for  reclaiming  the  world.  Queen  Mab,  a  notable 
though  immature  production,  was  the  work  of  this 
time,  and  was  privately  printed  in  1813.  Toward 
the  close  of  the  same  year  Shelley  and  his  wife  sepa- 
rated, and  after  her  death  in  1816  he  married  Mary 
Godwin,  who  proved  herself  more  capable  than  the 
unfortunate  Harriet  had  been,  of  giving  his  complex 
and  delicately  poised  nature  the  sympathy  and  help 
he  longed  for.  William  Godwin,  Mary  Godwin's 
father,  was  a  theoretical  reformer,  who  preached  the 
peaceable  abolition,  through  the  pure  force  of  reason, 
of  law,  government,  and  religion,  and  Shelley,  who 
had  previously  felt  an  enthusiastic  admiration  for  his 
teachings,  was  now  brought  into  closer  relations  with 
the  advocate  of  these  extravagant  doctrines.  He 
had  thus,  on  the  one  hand,  broken  with  authority  and 
custom,  by  his  expulsion  from  Oxford  and  his  breach 
with  his  father,  and  on  the  other  he  had  surrendered 
himself,  in  his  impulsiveness  and  immaturity,  to  the 
guidance  of  a  man  who  expressed  the  sweeping  and 
unscientific  notions  of  social  reform  then  current 
among  extremists.  Alastor  (1816),  Shelley's  next 
poem,  in  which  he  describes  the  lonely  wanderings 
and  death  of  a  poet  who  pursues  the  unattainable 
and  ideal  beauty,  discloses  to  us  the  spi'ings  of 
Shelley's  own  nature.  Like  Marlowe,  Shelley  was 
possessed  by  the  "  desire  for  the  impossible,"  and  his 
insatiable  and  buoyant  spirit  mounts  into  regions 
where  we  cannot  follow.  In  the  nobility  of  its  verse 
and  the  beauty  of  its  natural  descriptions,  Alastor 
shows  a  great  advance  in  poetic  power,  and  from  this 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       373 

time  the  splendors  of  Shelley's  genius  steadily  dis- 
close themselves.  In  his  next  poem,  The  Revolt  of 
Islam  (1818),  he  poured  out  those  hopes  for  the  regen- 
eration of  the  world,  which  are  a  vital  force  in  his 
life  and  poetry.  Shelley  was  less  blindly  destructive, 
less  hopeless  than  Byron.  He  saw  that  the  disap- 
pointment which  succeeded  the  failure  of  the  Revolu- 
tion had  "  unconsciously  found  relief  only  in  the 
willful  exaggeration  of  its  own  despair,"  *  and  he 
wrote  The  Revolt,  of  Islam  in  the  belief  that  man- 
kind were  "  emerging  from  their  trance."  *  His 
hero,  Laon,  is  not  a  Lara  or  a  Manfred,  lost  in  selfish 
gloom  and  misanthropy,  but  a  poet-prophet,  aspir- 
ing after  excellence,  who  falls  a  willing  martyr  to 
his  love  for  men.  In  contrast  to  Byron's  chaotic 
despondency,  the  poem  strikes  anew  the  note  of  hope 
and  prophecy  ;  it  suggests  to  us  that  the  interval  of 
doubt  and  depression  is  passing ;  it  proclaims  a 
Bocial  faith.  Mankind  is  to  be  saved  by  Love,  and 
in  the  poem  "  Love  is  celebrated  everywhere  as  the 
Bole  law  which  should  govern  the  moral  world."  * 
The  whole  poet-world  of  Shelley  is  transfigured  and 
glorious  in  the  radiance  of  this  faith.  The  doctrine 
of  Tlie  Revolt  of  Islam  was  but  reiterated  in  one  of 
the  noblest  of  his  poems,  the  lyrical  drama  of  Pro- 
metheus Unbound  (1820).  There  we  see  Prometheus, 
the  type  of  humanity,  or  of  the  human  mind,  chained 
to  the  precipice  by  Jupiter,  the  personification  of  that 
despotic  authority  which  clogs  man's  free  develop- 
ment. The  hour  of  liberation  is  at  hand.  Asia,  the 

*  Preface  to  the    The  Revolt  of  Islam.    The  passage  first 
quoted  apparently  refers  to  Byron. 


874        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

incarnation  of  that  ineffable  ideal  which  Shelley 
sought,  the  "  life  of  life,"  and  "  shadow  of  beauty 
unbeheld,"  journeys  to  meet  Prometheus.  Jupiter 
is  overthrown,  the  rule  of  despotism  broken.  Pro- 
metheus unbound  is  united  to  Asia,  that  is,  the  mind 
of  man  is  wedded  to  its  holiest  aspirations,  and  the 
world  enters  upon  the  reign  of  universal  love. 

- '  Love  from  its  awful  throne  of  patient  power 
la  the  wise  heart,  from  the  last  giddy  hour 
Of  dread  endurance,  from  the  slippery,  steep, 
And  narrow  verge  of  crag-like  agony  springs, 
And  folds  over  the  world  its  healing  wings."* 

So  in  the  closing  chorus  of  Hellas  (1821),  a  drama 
inspired  by  the  Greek  war  for  independence,  the 
poet's  vision  sees  in  the  coming  Golden  Age  the  return 
of  "  Saturn  and  of  Love." 

"Not  gold,  not  blood,  their  altar  dowers, 
But  votive  tears  and  symbol  flowers.  "\ 

IB  spite  of  his  professed  opinions,  Shelley  is  in  tie  is 
poem  one  of  the  most  intensely  Christian  of  English 
poets.  In  Mrs.  Shelley's  words  he  had  "  an  exceeding 
faith  in  the  spirit  of  Christianity,"  and  he  went  about 
among  men  the  embodiment  of  love  and  pity,  the 
helper  of  the  helpless  and  the  poor. 

In  1818  Shelley  left  for  the  Continent,  traveling 
and  writing  among  the  most  beautiful  scenes.  A 
number  of  poems  composed  in  the  year  following 
show  the  deep  effect  produced  upon  him  by  the  news 

*  V.  the  speech  of  Prometheus  to  Asia,  act  iii.  scene  8,  and 
the  beautiful  lyric  "Life  of  Life,  thy  Lips  Enkindle,"  actiL, 
scene  5. 

f  Hellas. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       3?5 

of  the  Manchester  massacre  *  and  by  the  thought  of 
the  oppression  and  misery  at  home.  Among  these  are 
TJie  Masque  of  Anarchy r,  in  which  Murder  appears  as 
Lord  Castlereagh  and  Fraud  as  Lord  Eldon,  with  its 
passionate  appeal  to  the  people  to  rise  against  their 
oppressors;  "England  in  1819,"  and  "The  Song  to 
the  Men  of  England."  In  these  poems  the  demo- 
cratic sympathies  of  Shelley  take  a  passionate  and 
distinctly  practical  form.  The  brief  space  between 
1818  and  his  untimely  death  in  1822  is  the  period  of 
Shelley's  greatest  work.  Year  by  year  the  fullness  of 
his  genius  was  revealing  itself.  He  had  learned  of  life 
and  of  suffering  ;  his  faith  was  deepening,  his  mind 
maturing  through  experience  and  incessant  study. 
He  was  becoming  a  more  consummate  master  of 
his  art.  That  labyrinthine  profusion  of  fancy  and 
imagery,  which  dazzles  and  confuses  us  in  many  of 
his  earlier  poems  by  its  very  splendor  and  excess,  is 
chastened  and  restrained  in  his  later  songs,  which 
stand  pre-eminent  among  the  most  exquisite  creations 
of  lyric  art.  But  English  poetry  was  to  suffer  a 
sudden  and  irreparable  loss.  In  1822,  while  sailing 
on  the  Gulf  of  Leghorn,  Shelley  was  caught  in  a 
squall  off  the  Via  Reggia  and  perished.  So  swiftly 
and  so  terribly  did  that  breath  of  the  Eternal,  whose 
might  he  had  invoked  in  song,  descend  upon  him.  f 

Criticism  can  do  but  little  toward  helping  us  to  an 
appreciation  of  Shelley's  character  and  work.  We 
dare  not  attempt  by  any  cold  analysis  to  reach  the 
secrets  of  a  nature  so  intricately  and  exquisitelv  f  ash- 

•F.  p.  296,  supra. 

f  V.  last  stanza  of  Adonait. 


376        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

ioned  ;  to  apportion  praise  and  blame,  or  to  recon« 
cile  real  or  apparent  contradictions.  He  was  de- 
nounced by  his  contemporaries  for  acts  and  opinions 
which  were  rightly  considered  immoral  and  hurtful 
to  the  order  and  happiness  of  society.  No  admira- 
tion for  Shelley  should  lead  us  to  think  lightly  of 
his  faults  or  blind  us  to  tlieir  disastrous  consequences. 
How  far  he  was  morally  responsible  for  erroneous 
principles  sincerely  held  we  need  not  here  inquire  ; 
what  we  should  realize  is  that  his  wrong  actions 
were  in  conformity  with  what  he  himself  believed  to 
be  right.  To  be  just  to  him  we  must  identify  our- 
selves, for  the  time,  with  his  view  of  life.  We  must 
realize  also  the  nobility  of  many  of  his  aims,  his 
childlike  purity  and  innocence,  which  shrank  back 
pained  and  perplexed  at  the  defilements  of  the 
world. 

Shelley's  poetry,  like  his  nature,  must  be  known 
through  sympathy  rather  than  through  criticism. 
No  English  poet  is  more  remote  from  those  tangible 
facts  of  life  which  daily  engross  us,  none  has  fewer 
points  of  contact  with  the  average  mental  state  of 
the  average  man.  Like  his  Skylark,  Shelley  mounts 
from  the  earth  as  a  cloud  of  fire  ;  and  his  song  reaches 
us  from  blue  aerial  heights.  If  we  have  an  answer- 
ing touch  of  his  nature,  if  we  have  it  in  us  to  leave 
the  ground,  we  shall  be  caught  up  likewise  into  those 
luminous  and  unfathomable  spaces  where  he  sings. 
To  understand  Shelley,  we  must  recall  those  moments 
when  some  deep  feeling  has  shaken  the  dominion  of 
the  ordinary  in  us,  when  the  familiar  has  grown 
strange  to  us  and  the  spiritual  near,  or  perhaps  when 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODEKN  LITERATTJKE       377 

&  vague  desire  for  a  something  unguessed  has 
possessed  us :  then,  if  we  imagine  those  feelings 
intensified  a  hundredfold,  we  are  within  sight  of  the 
confines  of  Shelley's  world.  This,  indeed,  is  more 
particularly  applicable  to  his  larger  and  more  diffi- 
cult works,  as  The  Witch  of  Atlas  and  Epipsychidion  / 
many  of  his  shorter  and  more  familiar  poems  are 
free  from  obscurity,  yet  full  of  Shelley's  peculiar 
magic.  In  his  purely  lyrical  faculty,  his  power  to 
sing,  Shelley  is  perhaps  without  a  parallel  in  English 
poetry. 

STUDY  LIST 
PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY 

1.  Adonais.     Given  in  Hales'  Longer  English  Poems,  with 
notes.     Cf.  note  on  Lycidas  and  the  elegy  in  the  Milton  Study 
List.     Cf.  also  Mosclms'  Lament  for  Bion,  and  Bion's  Lament 
for  Adonis — the  latter  translated  by  Mrs.  Browning.     Do  you 
think  Shelley  expresses  in  this  poem  a  belief  in  personal 
immortality  ?    If  not,  what  is  the  teaching  of  the  poem  on 
this  point. 

2.  The  Sensitire  Plant ;    Alastor, 

3.  SHORTER  POEMS.     The  Skylark,  see  Keats  Study  List, 
§2;    The  Cloud;  Ode  to  the  West  Wind  ;  Arethum  ;    Linet 
v-ritten    among  the    Euganean   Hills;     Stanzas  written  in 
Dejection,    near    Naples;    Mont    Blanc;   Lines   written  in 
the  Vale  of  Chamouni  (cf.  Coleridge's    Mont  Blanc) ;    Muta- 
bility, a  Lament  (v.  "Wordsworth  Study  List,  on  loss  of  early 
feeling  for  nature,  §  1,  c) ;    One  Word  is  too  often  Profaned. 
In  studying  Shelley  as  a  lyric  poet  the  reader  should  turn, 
in  addition    to  the  above,  to  the   choruses    in  Prometheus 
Unbouru,  and  HMaa.     Note  particularly  the  "  Life  of  Life,  thy 
Lips  Enkindle  "  from  the  former,  and  the  last  chorus  fromtLe 
latter  of  these  two  poPins. 


378        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

4.  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.    Dowden's  Life  of  Sliettey, ' 
2  vols. ,  is  the  standard  work  on  the  subject.     Shelley's  life  has 
been  written  for  the  Great  Writers  Series  by  William  Sharp, 
and  for  the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series  by  J.  A.  Symonds. 
Essays  on  the  Prometheus  Unbound,  by  Vida  D.  Scudder,  i 
Atlantic  Monthly  for  1892  are  interesting  and  suggestive. 

JOHN   KEATS. — 1795-1821 

The  inclination  to  associate  Keats  with  Byron  ana 

Shelley,  his  contemporaries  in  poetry,  is  natural,  but 

in   many   vays   misleading.     It   is   true 

and  ShSley11'  that  the  tliree  Poets  were  not  far  aPavt 
in  age,  and  that  none  of  them  lived  to 

be  old.  It  is  true  that  each  in  his  own  way  ex- 
pressed some  phase  or  quality  of  youth  :  Byron,  its 
ungoverned  passions  and  ill-considered  despairs  ; 
Shelley,  its  generous,  if  visionary,  aspirations  ; 
Keats,  its  freshness  of  unquestioning  enjoyment,  its 
undulled  and  exquisite  sensibility  to  the  beauty  of 
the  things  of  sense.  But  the  points  of  difference 
between  Keats  and  the  older  members  of  the  group 
greatly  exceed  these  more  accidental  or  external 
marks  of  resemblance.  While  Shelley's  noble  tribute 
to  Keats'  memory  and  genius  in  Adonais  links  the 
two  poets  together  in  our  thoughts,  the  personal 
relations  between  them  were  extremely  slight,  and 
in  the  nature  of  their  genius  they  were  widely  differ- 
ent. Byron  and  Keats  were  even  more  widely  sepa- 
rated. Byron  speaks  contemptuously  both  of  Keats 
and  of  his  poetry,  while  Keats,  on  his  part,  shows  no 
trace  of  Byron's  influence.  In  truth  Keats  was  en- 
tirely apart  from  the  democratic  and  revolutionary 
movement  to  which  Byron  and  Shelley  belonged. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       379 

Those  kindred  impulses,  the  pity  for  human  suffer- 
ing and  the  "  passion  for  reforming  the  world,"  which 
had  been  a  growing  inspiration  and  power  in  English 
poetry  from  Thomson  to  Shelley,  are  .absolutely 
alien  to  the  poetry  of  Keats.  His  genius  draws  its 
nourishment  from  widely  different  sources,  and  to 
understand  his  relation  to  literary  history  we  must 
approach  him  as  the  bringer  of  a  fresh  impulse  into 
English  poetry,  the  force  of  which  is  not  yet  spent. 

Byron  and  Shelley,  the  poets  of  democracy,  were 
representatives  of  the  aristocratic  class  ;  Keats  was 
the  son  of  the  head  hostler  in  a  livery 
stable  at  Moorfields,  London.  The  poet's 
father,  Thomas  Keats,  had  married  the  daughter  of 
his  employer,  and  succeeded  to  the  management  of 
the  business  at  the  Swan  and  Hoop.  There  John, 
the  eldest  child,  was  born  October  31,  1795.  As  a 
boy  he  appears  to  have  been  at  first  chiefly  remark- 
able for  beauty  of  face,  courage,  and  pugnacity. 
According  to  the  painter  Haydon,  who  knew  him 
well  in  after  years,  he  was,  "  when  an  infant,  a  most 
violent  and  ungovernable  child."  When  about  seven 
or  eight  years  old  he  was  sent  to  a  school  at  Enfield, 
a  small  town  some  ten  miles  north  of  London.  Here 
fighting — according  to  one  of  his  schoolfellows — 
was  "  meat  and  drink  to  him."  He  is  described  as 
violent  and  generous,  as  "  always  in  extremes,"  "  in 
passions  of  tears  or  outrageous  fits  of  laughter."  : 
He  was  a  general  favorite,  yet  he  was  often  morbidly 
miserable  and  given  to  groundless  suspicions  of  his 

*This  schoolfellow  was  Edward  Holmes,  «.  Colvin's  Kent*. 
pp.  7,  8. 


380       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

companions.  In  such  descriptions  we  recognize  that 
acute  sensibility  to  joy  and  suffering,  that  subjec- 
tion to  moods  and  sensations,  which  characterized 
him  in  after  life.  "  You  tell  me  never  to  despair," 
lie  wrote  to  Haydon  in  1817  ;  "I  wish  it  were  easy 
for  me  to  observe  the  saying — truth  is,  I  have  a 
horrid  morbidity  of  temperament."  *  A  year  later 
he  wrote  to  Baily,  (k  I  carry  all  matters  to  an  ex- 
treme, so  that  when  I  have  any  little  vexation  it 
grows  in  five  minutes  into  a  theme  for  Sophocles."  f 
During  the  earlier  part  of  his  school  days  Keats 
seemed  destined  for  military  success  rather  than  for 
distinction  as  a  poet ;  but  wtien  he  was  about  thir- 
teen the  passion  for  study  took  possession  of  him, 
and  he  read  with  as  much  intensity  as  he  had  fought. 
He  knew  no  Greek,  and  in  Latin  his  classical  attain- 
ments extended  no  further  than  the  ^Eneid,  J  yet  he 
found  out  a  way  to  Greek  mythology  through  the 
pages  of  Tooke's  Pantheon,  Lempriere's  Classical 
.Dictionary,  and  Spence's  Polymetis.  Seldom  has 
the  strength  and  trustworthiness  of  that  instinct 
which  leads  genius  to  select  and  appropriate  the 
material  most  suited  to  its  development  been  more 
strikingly  illustrated.  In  this  introduction  to  litera- 
ture Keats  had  the  benefit  of  the  friendship  of  Charles 
Cowden  Clarke,  the  son  of  the  head-master  and  a 
young  man  of  decided  literary  tastes. 

During  these  years  at  Enfield  Keats  lost  his  father 

*  Letters,  edited  by  H.  B.  Forman,  p.  17. 
^Ibid.,  p.  176. 

$  C.  C.  Clarke's  chapter  on  Keats  in  his  RecolUctions  of 
Writers. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       381 

and  mother,  and  in  1810,  when  he  was  but  fifteen, 
his  guardian  took  him  from  school  and  apprenticed 
him  to  a  Mr.  Hammond,  a  surgeon  at  Edmonton. 
As  this  town  is  but  a  few  miles  from  Enfield,* 
Keats  was  able  to  keep  up  his  intimacy  with  the 
Clarkes.  The  influence  of  Charles  Clarke  on  Keats 
thus  continued  uninterrupted.  The  two  friends  read 
together,  and  discussed  their  favorite  poets,  and 
through  Clarke,  Keats  found  a  new  world  of  delight 
in  the  poetry  of  Spenser.  There  is  a  close  affinity 
between  the  genius  of  Spenser  and  that  of  Keats, 
and  in  reading  the  Faerie  Queene  the  younger  poet, 
with  his  beauty-loving  and  romantic  nature,  must 
have  felt  that  he  had  come  into  his  inheritance. 
Clarke  says  that  he  went  "ramping"  through  the 
poem  "  as  a  young  horse  would  through  a  spring 
meadow."  f  It  seems  to  have  been  this  pure  enjoy- 
ment of  Spenser's  poetry  that  first  stirred  in  Keats 
the  desire  to  write,  and,  according  to  good  authority, 
his  "Imitation  of  Spenser"  was  his  earliest  attempt 
at  verse.  In  another  early  poem,  full  of  boyish  rap- 
tures over  chivalry,  he  does  homage  to  Spenser,  and 
calls  on  his  gentle  spirit  to  hover  about  his  steps  : 

"  Spenser  !  thy  brows  are  arched,  open,  kind 
And  come  like  a  clear  sunrise  to  my  mind."  J 

At  eighteen  Keats  had  thus  gained  access  to  those 
two  enchanted  regions — the  world  of  Greek  mythol- 
ogy and  the  world  of  mediaeval  romance — which 

*  Edmonton  lies  between  London  and  Enfield,  and  about 
three  or  four  miles  from  the  latter  place, 
f  Recollections  of  Writers  :  "  John  Keats." 
\  "  Specimen  of  an  Induction  to  a  Poem." 


382       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

were  to  give  their  especial  coloring  to  much  of  bis 

greatest    work.     In   consequence  of  a  quarrel   with 

Mr.  Hammond,  Keats  did  not   complete 

London"1     tlie  term  °^  ^'S  ai- Prentice8l»P>  but  came 
up  to  London  in  1814,  and  continued  his 
study  of  medicine  in  the  London  hospitals. 

He  seems  to  have  acquitted  himself  creditably  in  his 
professional  duties,  but  the  whole  force  of  his  nature 
went  out  more  and  more  toward  poetry,  which  rap- 
idly became  his  one  absorbing  passion.  Through 
Clarke,  who  had  also  settled  in  London,  he  read 
Chapman's  translation  of  Homer,  and  celebrated  his 
conquest  of  this  new  kingdom  for  his  imagination  in 
a  sonnet  which  is  one  of  the  first  revelations  of  the 
extent  of  his  poetic  power.  Soon  after 
he  met  Leigh  Hunt,  and  began  a  friend- 
ship which  was  to  exercise  an  important  influence  on 
his  career.  Hunt,  who  was  about  ten  years  Keats* 
senior,  was  an  amiable,  but  somewhat  volatile  and 
superficial  man,  with  a  fine  feeling  for  the  beauty  of 
a  poetic  phrase,  but  no  great  strength  or  creative 
power.  His  poetry,  while  sometimes  pleasing,  had 
a  tendency  to  mere  prettiness,  and  was  too  apt  to 
sink  into  a  colloquial  familiarity  which  he  mis- 
took for  ease,  but  which  was  beneath  the  dignity 
of  art.  His  literary  essays  were  graceful  and 
appreciative.  Hunt  was  the  head  of  what  was 
derisively  called  the  "  Cockney  school."  He  had 
aroused  the  bitter  antagonism  of  the  great  Tory 
periodicals,  BlackwoocTs  Magazine  and  the  Quar- 
terly, by  the  position  he  had  taken  in  politics  as  well 
as  in  literature,  for  circumstances  had  made  him 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       383 

a  hero  of  the  young  Liberals.  When  Keats  came  to 
London  Hunt  was  in  prison,  in  const- quence  of  certain 
unflattering  comments  on  the  Prince  of  Wales. 
After  softening  his  captivity  by  procuring  a  flowered 
wall-paper  and  by  much  reading  of  Spenser  and  the 
Italian  poets,  Hunt  became,  to  Liberals,  a  martyr  to 
liberty,  and  to  Tories  an  object  of  attack.  He  had, 
moreover,  aroused  the  opposition  of  the  Edinburgh 
critics  by  an  attack  on  the  poetry  of  Wordsworth  and 
of  Scott.  By  becoming  a  poetic  disciple  of  Hunt, 
Keats  consequently  laid,  himself  open  to  castigation 
from  two  of  the  leading  critical  periodicals  of  the  day. 
Keats'  first  volume  of  poetry,  indeed,  which  appeared 
in  1817,  escaped  notice.  It  was  a  thin  volume  of 
short  poems,  full  of  youthful  crudities,  and  marred 
by  a  weak  effusiveness  and  sentimentality  of  phrase. 
But  tlie  publication  of  his  long  poem  of 
Endymion  in  the  year  following  brought 
down  upon  the  new  adherent  of  the 
"  Cockney  school  "  the  brutal  abuse  of  the  Quarterly 
and  Blackicood^s,  or,  as  Landor  named  it,  "  Black- 
guard's "  Magazine.  We  know  now  that  the  injus- 
tice and  cruelty  of  these  attacks  were  not  the  cause 
of  Keats'  early  death,  that  Shelley  was  mistaken 
when  he  called  the  reviewers  murderers,  and  Byron 
when  he  said  that  the  poet  of  Endymion  had  been 
"snuffed  out  by  an  article."*  Indeed,  after  the  first 
kdiock,  Keats  showed  a  real  restraint  and  manliness. 
"  Praise  or  blame,"  he  declared,  "  has  but  a  momen- 
tary effect  on  the  man  whose  love  of  beauty  in  the 
abstract  makes  him  a  severe  critic  on  his  own 
*  Don  Juan,  canto  zi.  stanza  Iz. 


384       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

works.  .  .  I  never  was  afraid  of  failure  ;  for  I 
would  sooner  fail  than  not  be  among  the  greatest."* 
Keats  himself  spoke  of  Endymion  as  a  "  feverish 
attempt  rather  than  a  deed  accomplished,"  f  and 
while  it  gives  abundant  evidence  of  high  poetic 
power,  it  lacks  the  sustained  excellence  and  the  fine 
restraint  which  are  found  in  the  greatest  works. 
Not  only  was  the  poem  a  failure  in  the  eyes  of 
hostile  critics  :  Keats  had  failed  to  express  in  it  the 
real  capacity  that  was  in  him.  He  was  without 
a  profession  (for  he  had  abandoned  medicine),  and 
without  adequate  means  of  living.  He  had  his 
genius,  and  his  resolve  to  be  among  the  great  English 
poets  after  his  death.  He  was  twenty-three  when 
Endymion  was  published  ;  he  was  not  twent37-six 
when  he  died.  Yet  in  the  three  years 

Eapiddevel-  that  remaine(j  for  nim   darkened  toward 

opment. 

the  close  by  mental  and  physical  suffer- 
ings, he  won  a  lasting  place  among  the  poets  of 
England.  It  is  not  the  precocity  of  Keats  that  sur- 
prises us  ;  it  is  the  rapidity  of  his  poetic  develop- 
ment ;  the  fact  that  he  passes  at  one  stride  from  the 
relaxing  and  mawkish  strain  so  recurrent  in  the 
earlier  poems,  and  from  the  "  indistinct  profusion,"  \ 
of  Endymion,  to  such  highly-wrought  artistic  mas- 
terpieces as  Hyperion,  The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes,  and 
the  Ode  on  a  Grecian  Urn.  It  argues  well  for 
Keats'  manliness  and  for  his  whole-souled  devotion 

*  Letters,  p.  207,  Forman's  edition, 
f  Preface  to  Endymion. 

\  Shelley's  phrase  ;  v.  Forman's  edition  of  Shelley's  Prose 
Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  186. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       335 

to  his  art,  that,  in  the  face  of  hostile  criticism,  his 
genius  could  thus  suddenly  and  triumphantly  assert 
itself.  At  this  time  (1818)  a  rival  passion  began  to 
take  its  place  beside  his  love  of  poetry.  He  met 
Miss  Fanny  Brawne,  and  his  first  feelings  of  mingled 
attraction  and  disapproval  gave  way  to  a  violent 
infatuation.  It  is  a  feverish  and,  on  Keats'  side, 
a  pitiable  love  story,  and  carries  us  rapidly  to  a 
tragic  ending.  Signs  of  ill-health  had  before  this 
begun  to  show  themselves,  the  chances  of  any  imme- 
diate recognition  as  a  poet  were  most  slight,  and  to 
Keats'  excitable  and  jealous  temperament,  love  meant 
tumult  and  too  often  torment.  He  held  to  his  work, 
but  the  uncertainties  and  vexations  of  his  position 
preyed  upon  him.  "I  shall  be  able  to  do  nothing," 
he  writes.  "  I  should  like  to  cast  the  die  for  love  or 
death."*  A  few  months  later  (February,  1820), 
consumption  declared  itself,  and  from  the  first  Keats 
had  no  hope  of  his  o\vn  recovery.  In  the  same  year 
he  collected  and  published  most  of  the  poems  which 
he  had  written  since  the  appearance  of  Endymion, 
and  on  these  poems  his  fame  chiefly  rests.  In  the 
fall  of  1820  it  became  evident  that  Keats  could  not 
survive  another  winter  in  England,  and  in  September 
he  sailed  for  Naples  with  his  friend  Joseph  Severn. 
He  lingered  for  a  short  time  in  what  he  called  bit- 

o 

tevly  a  "  posthumous  existence,"  and  died  in  Rome 
February  23,  1821.  His  last  words  were  to  his 
faithful  Severn,  "  Thank  God,  it  has  come." 

The  moving  principle  of  Keats'  life  and  poetry  is 
tae  worship  of  beauty.  Somehow  there  had  been 

*  Letters,  19th  October,  1819,  p.  433,  Forman's  editior 


386       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LTTERATUKE 

lodged  in  this  son  of  a  London  hostler  a  seemingly 
miraculous  power  to  know  and  love  beauty  and  to  em- 
body tliis  fine  perception  of  it  in  a  beau- 
Met*  "         t^u^  f°rrn-      To  him  the  exercise  of  this 
power  to  perceive  and  to  create  was  the 
supreme,  almost  the  sole,  interest.     It  took  the  place 
of  a  religion.     The  first  articles  of  his  creed  remain 
for  us  in  two  familiar  passages;  in  his  conviction  that 

"  A  thing  of  beauty  is  a  joy  forever," 

and  that  beauty  and  truth  are  one.*  We  may  add  to 
these  his  prose  statement  that  "  with  a  great  poet  the 
sense  of  beauty  overcomes  every  other  consideration, 
or  rather  obliterates  all  consideration,"  f  and  we  may 
recall  further  his  significant  words  to  Miss  Brawne, 
"  Why  may  I  not  speak  of  your  Beauty,  since  without 
that  I  could  never  have  lov'd  you"?J  The  delight 
in  beauty  in  its  outward  manifestations  depends 
partly  on  the  soul  and  partly  on  the  senses.  Physi- 
cally, Keats  was  endowed  with  so  fine  and  pleasure- 
loving  an  organization  that  his  senses  as  well  as  his 
soul  were  delicately  responsive  to  outward  impres- 
sions. This  peculiar  freshness  and  openness  to  im- 
pression lies  on  the  surface  of  his  character  and 
work.  "The  glitter  of  the  sea,"  says  Haydon, 
"  seemed  to  make  his  nature  tremble."  He  luxuriates 
in  sensations,  he  goes  into  raptures  over  the  taste  of 
claret  or  ot  fruit.  In  his  work  he  communicates  some- 

*  See  opening  of   Endymion  and   the   end   of    Ode    on  a 
Grecian  Urn. 

\  Letter  to  his   brother   George,  Lettert,  p.  57,   Forman's 
edition. 

Z.,  861. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       387 

thing  of  his  keener  susceptibility  to  our  duller  and 
more  phlegmatic  senses.  That  wonder  of  romance, 
The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes,  for  instance,  is 
a  poem  of  sensuous  impressions.  We 
are  made  to  feel  the  aching  cold,  or  the 
"  poppied  warmth  of  sleep,"  to  hear  the  resonance  of 
the  silver  trumpets  or  the  pattering  of  the  "  flaw- 
blown  sleet"  ;  to  see  the  "  carved  angels,  ever  eager- 
eyed,"  to  taste  the  jellies  "soother  than  the  creamy 
curd."  It  is  a  poem  of  contrasts  :  the  radiance  of 
light  and  color,  the  storm  and  darkness  ;  the  palsied 
crone  and  the  ancient  beadsman,  beside  the  absorbing 
happiness  and  ecstasy  of  love  and  youth.  It  is  this 
earue  fastidious  susceptibility  to  beauty  that  declares 
itself  in  the  almost  unrivaled  verbal  felicity  of 
Keats'  best  work.  So  rich  are  his  best  poems  in  this 
magical  quality — as,  for  instance,  his  finest  odes — that 
we  linger  over  them,  held  by  pure  delight  in  the  per- 
fection of  the  phrase.  This  full  felicity  of  expression, 

perhaps  Keats'  greatest  distinction  as  a 

As  master  of 
poet,  is  the   quality   he   seems   to   have  fom 

admired  most  in  the  poetry  of  others. 
As  a  boy,  he  had  gone  into  raptures  over  the  epithet 
*'  sea-shouldering  whales,"  and  in  the  numerous  allu- 
sions to  the  works  of  his  favorite  poets  which  are 
scattered  through  his  letters,  his  enthusiasm  is  always 
for  the  phrase,  never,  or  rarely,  for  the  idea.  He 
wrote  to  his  friend  Baiby  that  he  looked  "  upon 
fine  phrases  like  a  lover."*  With  his  openness  of 
naiure  to  beautiful  impressions  and  this  fastidious 
felicity  of  phrase,  Keats  luxuriated  in  two  great 
*  Letters,  p.  364.  Forman's  edition. 


388       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

realms  of  beauty — the  wx  M  of  the  classic  Greek, 
and  the  world  of  mediaeval  romance.  His  fellowship 
with  the  one  has  given  us  such  poems  as  Hyperion 
and  the  Ode  on  a  Grecian  Urn /  his  fellowship  with 
the  other,  St.  Agnes*  Eve  and  La  Belle  Dame  sans 
Mervi.  Shelley  put  his  humanitarianism  into  his 
Prometheus /  under  Tennyson's  classic  poems  is  the 
undercurrent  of  modern  ideas  ;  the  soul  of  Coleridge's 
Ancient  Mariner  is  modern  within  its  quaint  old 
ballad  form.  But  Keats  is  remote,  not  merely  from 
his  modern  surroundings,  but  from  the  spirit  of  his 
time  ;  in  his  classic  poems  he  is  close  to  Swinburne, 
and  in  his  medievalism  he  is  really  the  precursor  of 
Rossetti  and  the  PreRaphaelites.*  Besides  such 
poems  as  those  of  which  we  have  spoken,  Keats  has 
given  us  in  many  of  his  odes  and  sonnets  specimens 
of  his  personal  feelings  and  moods. 

That  Keats  was  an  inspired  interpreter  of  beauty  ; 

that  he  has  enriched  the  literature  with  poems  which, 

though  few  in  number,  possess  a  fascina- 

place     tjon  Q£  ^]iejr  OWHj  these  things  are  beyond 

CIS  &  p06t* 

question.  Yet  after  this  is  freely  recog- 
nized, the  place  which  Keats  holds  among  the  great 
poets  of  England  remains  still  undetermined.  Our 
feeling  on  this  matter  will  depend  largely  upon 
our  ideal  of  poetry  and  our  convictions  as  to  its 
true  aims.  If  we  believe  that  the  highest  function 
of  the  poet  is  to  give  pleasure  through  the  creation 
of  a  beauty  that  appeals  primarily  to  the  senses,  the 
poetry  of  Keats  will  come  near  to  realizing  our  ideal. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  believe  that  the  highest  and 
*«.  pp.  459-460. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       389 

truest  poetry,  while  possessing  this  beauty,  adds  to 
it  a  beauty  more  purely  spiritual,  a  teaching  and 
uplifting  power,  and  an  element  of  thought,  we  shall 
find  Keats'  poetry  distinctly  insufficient  for  our 
highest  moods.  It  must  be  remembered, 

moreover,  that  the  absence  of  the  ethical     ^s  th*or? 

.  .  .  °f  poetry, 

and  spiritual  elements  in  the  poetry  of 

Keats  is  not  accidental,  but  is  the  result  of  his  most 
settled  convictions  in  regard  to  poetry  as  an  art.  He 
was  opposed  to  the  idea  that  the  poet  should  be  a 
teacher,  a  belief  which  was  the  inspiration  of  Mil' 
ton,  Wordsworth,  Shelley,  Tennyson,  and  Browning 
He  condemned  the  philosophic  element  in  Words' 
worth's  poems  ;  he  condemned  the  love  of  humanity 
and  the  desire  to  serve  it  in  Shelley's.  The  artist, 
he  declared,  must  have  no  purpose  beyond  that  of 
the  poetic  effect.  Such  a  purpose  is  wrongly  thought 
of  as  the  god  of  the  work,  "but,"  he  adds,  "an 
artist  must  serve  Mammon."  *  This  theory  of  poetiy 
is  plainly  in  keeping  with  the  tastes  and  character  of 
Keats  himself.  Supreme  in  one  province,  he  \f 
grievously  lacking  in  the  highest  aspirations,  IL 
spirituality,  and  in  the  ardor  for  right  and  truth. 
Apparently  devoid  of  a  religious  sense,  his  percep- 
tion of  beauty  grows  less  sensitive  as  beauty  becomes 
less  physical  and  more  abstract.  Back  of  the  work 
of  the  greatest  poets  we  recognize  the  tremendous 
force  which  comes  from  the  whole  mind  and  nature 
of  the  man.  Keats'  poetry,  beautiful  within  its 
limits,  is  circumscribed  by  the  serious  limitations  of 
Keats  himself.  In  Lamia,  for  instance,  which  has 
*  Letter  to  Shelley,  Letters,  p.  505,  Forman's  edition. 


890       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

been  pronounced  "  one  of  the  most  glorious  jewels  in 
the  crown  of  English  poetry,"  *  the  luxurious  emotions 
of  the  senses,  the  fascination  of  the  Circe, 
are  idealized  and  elevated  into  a  super- 
iority to  thought  and  to  truth.  We  are  called  upon 
to  sympathize  with  Lamia,  the  serpent-temptress 
transformed  into  a  beautiful  woman  ;  a  fair  illusion, 
destroyed  by  the  eye  of  truth.  Lamia  beseeches  her 
lover  not  to  think,  knowing  that  "  a  moment's  thought 
is  passion's  passing  bell."  We  cannot  but  recog- 
nize in  this  the  spirit  of  Keats  when  he  wrote,  "Oh, 
for  a  life  of  Sensations,  rather  than  of  Thoughts  !  "  f 
Lamia  dies,  but  Truth,  the  philosopher  who  has 
wrought  her  destruction,  ought,  says  the  poet,  to 
have  his  temples  bound  with  "speargrass"  and  the 
"  spiteful  thistle."  Contrary  to  his  theory,  Keats 
has  here  given  us  a  poem  with  a  teaching;  but  the 
teaching,  while  characteristic,  is  neither  elevated  nor 
true.  It  is  possible  that  the  shortcomings  of  Keats 
are  the  result  of  immaturity,  and  that,  had  he  lived, 
his  genius  would  have  declared  itself  in  other  ways.J 

*A.  C.  Swinburne,  "Keats,"  in  Encyclopaedia  Britannica, 
ninth  edition. 

f  Letters,  p.  53,  Forman's  edition. 

\  Matthew  Arnold  contends  that,  from  what  we  know  of 
Keats,  it  is  probable  that  his  genius  would  have  developed  in 
"  moral  interpretation."  He  quotes  from  Keats'  letter  to  show 
that  he  had  a  growing  desire  for  study,  and  gives  this  as  a 
proof  of  his  intellectual  possibilities.  He  omits,  however,  a 
later  passage  in  which  Keats  declares  that  he  prefers  pleasure 
to  study  (Letters,  p.  432).  Probably  Keats  often  expressed  a 
passing  mood,  and  too  much  weight  should  not  be  given  to 
his  often  impulsive  utterances, 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       391 

What  he  might  have  done  is  matter  for  conjecture; 
but  we  know  that  his  later  poems  are  not  immature 
but  highly  finished,  and  it  is  clear  that  his  advance 
toward  a  poetry  of  moral  power  and  philosophic 
thought  would  only  have  been  gained  by  a  radical 
change  in  his  views  of  poetry,  and  by  not  so  much  a 
growth  as  a  total  making  over  of  the  man  _  , 
himself.  Judging  him  by  what  he  has  poetic 
done,  we  are  constrained,  unless  we  lumtatlons« 
adopt  his  views  of  poetry,  to  admire  with  certain 
reservations.  His  poetry  is  the  song  of  the  Sirens. 
It  is  weakened  by  a  strain  of  effeminacy,  and  its 
atmosphere,  often  heavy  as  with  sweet  and  cloying 
odors,  is  deliciously  enervating.  We  miss  in  it  the 
manly  vigor  of  those  mountain  heights  where,  as  iu 
Wordsworth  or  Shelley,  the  air  is  pure  and  clear. 
We  should  lose  much  were  we  unable  to  yield  our- 
selves to  that  spell  of  warm  and  abundant  loveliness 
of  which  Keats  is  master,  but  if  we  rejoice  in  the 
life-giving  air  that  blows  on  the  high  altitudes  of 
poetry,  we  will  not  drift  into  that  unthinking  or 
wholesale  adulation  in  which  lovers  of  Keats  are  apt 
to  indulge.  The  motto  from  his  master  Spenser 
which  Keats  prefixed  to  Endymion  is  the  index  to 
the  spirit  of  all  his  work;  it  expresses  Keats'  ideal, 
but  we  may  question  whether  that  ideal  is  the 
highest : 

"  What  more  felicity  can  fall  to  creature 
Than  to  enjoy  delight  with  liberty  ?  " 


392       INTBODUCTION  TO   ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

STUDY  LIST 
JOHN  KEATS 

1.  ROMANTIC  AND  MEDIEVAL,     (a)  The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes. 
This  is  a  good  example  of  Keats'  mediaeval  ism.     The  poem  is 
given,  with  admirable  notes,  in  Hales'  Longer  English  Poems. 
Hales  refers  to  Chambers'  Book  of  Days  and  Ellis 'Brand's 
Popular  Antiquities  for  an  account  of  the  popular  superstition 
on  which  the  poem  is  founded.     He  suggests  that  some  of  the 
incidents  of  the  poem  may  have  been  taken  from  Romeo  and 
Juliet,  Chaucer's  Troilus  and  Cressida,  and  the  story  of  the 
elopement  of  Dorothy  Vernon  from  Haddon  Hall.     What  great 
English  poet  has  influenced  Keats  in  this  poem,  and  in  what 
respects?    Do  you  think  that  stanzas  xxx.  and  xxxi.  detract 
from  the  artistic  perfection  of  the  poem  as  a  whole?    Con- 
trast Keats'  treatment  of  the  Middle  Ages  in  this  poem  with 
that  of  Coleridge  in  The  Ancient  Mariner  and  Christabel. 

(b)  The  Eve  of  St.  Mark.  Cf.  with  the  foregoing,  and  see 
Rossetti's  life  of  Keats,  p.  184,  and  Colviii's  Keats,  p.  162.  The 
latter  critic  alludes  to  the  PreRaphaelite  tone  of  this  poem. 

(e)  La  Belle  Dame  Sans  Merci.  V.  Colvin's  Keats,  pp. 
163-164. 

This  little  poem  Mr.  Colvin  thinks  the  "  masterpiece  (if  any 
single  masterpiece  must  be  chosen)  "  of  Keats.  Apart  from 
its  beauty,  it  is  important  as  one  of  the  few  romantic  poems 
in  which  Keats  deals  with  the  supernatural,  an  important 
element  in  compositions  of  a  romantic  character.  In  this 
poem  Keats  is  very  close  to  Rossetti  and,  to  a  less  degree, 
to  Coleridge.  One  of  Rossetti's  early  pictures  is  on  this  sub- 
ject. (V.,  on  this  point,  Theodore  Watts'  article  on  "  Rossetti" 
in  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  ninth  edition.)  Cf.  Rossetti's 
Lilith  and  Coleridge's  Christabel  for  "the  idea  of  the  evil 
forces  of  nature  assailing  man  through  his  sense  of  beauty." 
Theodore  Watts,  supra. 

2.  CLASSIC  POEMS,     (a)  Lamia.     This  poem  substantially 
follows  the  story  of  Lycius,  and  the  Lamia  as  told  in  Burton's 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  MODERN  LITERATURE       393 

Anatomy  of  Melancholy  (part  3,  section  2).  While  Keats 
adheres  closely  to  the  main  points  of  Burton's  narrative,  he 
completely  reverses  the  moral.  In  Burton  the  young  philos- 
opher, "otherwise  staid  and  discreet,"  is  nearly  ruined  by 
yielding  to  the  spell  of  beauty.  The  original  idea  of  the  story 
is  thus  the  same  as  that  of  many  others  (Calypso,  Circe,  the 
Sirens,  etc.,  etc.)  ;  see  supra  section  1,  c. 

(b)  Look  up  the  meaning  of  a  Lamia  (Century  Dictionary  of 
Names,  Anthon's  Classical  Dictionary,  v.,  also,  "Empusa,"in 
Smith's  Classical  Dictionary).     Cf.  other  stories  similar  to  that 
of  Lamia,  c.  g.,  Thomas  the  Rymer,  Goethe's  Bride  of  Corinth, 
Duessa,  etc. ,  in  the  Faerie  Queene.     What  is  Keats'  altitude 
toward  modern  science  in  this  poem?     Cf.  Campbell's  To  the 
Rainbow  and  the  passage  in  Pleasures  of  Hope,  part  2,  begin- 
ning, "  Oh  !  lives  there,  Heaven  !  beneath  thy  dread  expanse," 
etc.     Cf.,  also,  Wordsworth's    The  Poet's  Epitaph.     Do  you 
agree  with  Swinburne  that  Lamia  is  "  one  of  the  finest  jewels 
in  the  crown  of  English  poetry?"    If  not,  give  reasons  for  your 
view.     Cf.  Holmes'  Elsie  Venner  and  Coleridge's  Christabel. 

(c)  Ode  on  a  Grecian  Urn.     Cf.  with  stanza  iv.,  Hawthorne's 
House  of  the  Seven  Gables,  chap,  xi.;  Ode  to  Psyche. 

(d)  Hyperion.     One  of  the  most  successful  of  Keats'  poems 
on  a  classical  subject.     Woodhouse,  a  friend  of  Keats,  writes  : 
"  The  poem,  if  complete,  would  have  treated  of  the  dethrone- 
ment of  Hyperion,  the  former  god  of  the  sun,  by  Apollo  ; 
and,  incidentally,  of  those  of  Oceanus  by  Neptune,  of  Saturn 
by  Jupiter,  etc.;  and  of  the  war  of  the  giants  for  Saturn's  re- 
establishment  -,  with  other  events  of  which  we  have  but  very 
dark  hints  in  the  mythological  poets  of  Greece  and  Rome. 

3.  PERSONAL  POEMS,  ODES,  SONNETS,  ETC.  (a)  Ode  to  a 
Nightingale.  Cf.  Shelley's  Skylark.  Which  of  these  two 
poems  shows  the  loftier  and  more  unselfish  spirit  ?  Cf.  also 
other  poems  to  the  skylark,  including  those  of  Wordsworth, 
Hogg,  and  William  Watson.  Ode  To  Autumn,  Ode  on  Melan- 
choly. V.  Swinburne's  remarks  on  these  odes  in  article  above 
quoted  ;  Robin  Hood. 

(b)  Sonnets.  On  First  Looking  into  Chapman's  Homer ; 
Keen  Fitful  Gusts  are  Whispering  Here  and  There  ;  To  One  who 


394        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Juts  been  Long  in  City  Pent ;  On  the  Sea  ;  On  Seeing  the  Elgin 
Marbles  ;  Bright  Star,  Would  I  Were  Steadfast  as  Tliou  Art — 
(Keats'  last  sonnet). 

4.  BIOGKAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.  The  standard  edition  of 
Keats  is  that  edited  by  H.  Buxton  Forman,  including  both 
poetry  and  prose,  4  vols.,  1883,  and,  with  additions,  1889. 
TJie  Poetical  Works  of  John  Keats,  with  notes,  by  F.  T.  Pal- 
grave  (Golden  Treasury  Series)  1884.  The  Poetical  Works 
edited  by  W.  T .  Arnold  contains  preface  on  the  sources  of 
Keats'  vocabulary  and  diction.  Keats'  letters  have  been  re- 
edited  by  H.  B.  Forman,  and  published  separately,  1895. 
Colvin's  Keats,  English  Men  of  Letters  Series  ;  Rossetti's 
Keats.  Great  Writers  Series  (contains  a  bibliography) ;  Matthew 
Arnold's  essay  in  Ward's  English  Poets,^\o\.  iv.  (published  also 
in  Essays  in  Criticism,  Second  Series),  while  admitting  Keats' 
deficiencies,  assigns  him  an  exalted  place.  It  should  be  care- 
fully and  ^critically  read.  Lowell's  essay  on  ''Keats,"  in 
Among  my  Books;  Swinburne's  "Keats,"  in  Encyclopedia 
Britannica,  ninth  edition  ;  "  Poetry,  Music,  and  Painting  : 
Coleridge  and  Keats,"  W.  J.  Courthope,  National  Review, 
vol.  v.  p.  504  ;  "  The  Centenary  of  John  Keats,"  The  Forum, 
November,  1895.  For  the  relation  of  Keats  to  the  PreRaphae- 
lite  movement,  v.  Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti  and  the  PreRaphae- 
lite  Movement,  by  Esther  Wood,  chap.  iii.  For  bibliography, 
•p.,  also,  "  Keats,"  in  Stephen's  Dictionary  of  National  Biog- 
raphy, vol.  xxx. 

[Keats'  poetry  inevitably  suggests  inquiry  into  the  nature  of 
the  highest  beauty  in  poetry,  the  poetic  value  of  the  ethical 
and  philosophic  elements,  and  the  correctness  of  Keats' 
theories  on  these  points.  The  student  may  compare  Spenser's 
views  in  his  "  Fowre  Hymnes,"  especially  the  one  of  the 
series  "In  Honour  of  Beautie,"  and  Tennyson's  "Palace  of 
Art  "  (for  the  latter  t>.  pp.  466  and  467,  and  Tennyson  Study 
List,  p.  500,  §2)  post.] 


CHAPTER  n 

EECENT  WEITEKS.-1839 

THE  year  1830  may  conveniently  be  regarded  as  the 
beginning  of  the  latest  literary  epoch  of  England. 
Not  only  did  many  of  the  great  authors  who  stand 
as  representatives  and  exponents  of  the  Victorian 
age,  begin  to  write  in  or  about  that  year,  but  many 
surrounding  conditions  in  society  or  in  thought 
which  have  helped  to  give  form  and  color  to  their 
work,  then  began  to  impress  themselves  upon  the 
tone  of  literary  production.  It  is  never  easy  to  select, 
out  of  the  complex  and  multifarious  life  of  a  time, 
those  particular  social  conditions  or  current  modes  of 
thought  which  have  done  most  toward  giving  to  the 
literature  of  the  epoch  its  special  note  or  personality. 
But  in  dealing  with  a  past  epoch  at  least  some  of  our 
difficulties  have  been  removed  by  the  mere  lapse  of 
time.  Rightly  or  wrongly,  time  has  selected  for  us 
what  we  must  assume  to  be  the  leading  character- 
istics of  the  period.  The  confusion  of  innumerable 
voices  has  long  ceased,  thousands  of  daily  happen- 
ings have  passed  out  of  mind,  and  the  meaning  and 
due  relations  of  great  events  have  grown  more  clear. 
Keeping  in  mind  the  obstacles  to  our  gaining  a  just 
and  comprehensive  idea  of  that  time  to  which  we 
may  be  said  to  belong,  we  must  try  to  understand  its 
general  meaning  and  personality,  so  far  as  our  near- 
ness to  it  will  peiiDJfco 

396 


396        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEBATUBB 

We  can  detect  three  forces  at  work  in  the  life  and 
thought  of  recent  England,  which  have  been  potent 
factors  in  the  contemporary  literature  : 

(1)  The  advance  of  democracy. 

(2)  The  general  diffusion   of  knowledge   and  of 
literature. 

(8)   The  advance  of  science. 

These  are  not  separate  but  interdependent  forces  ; 
each  has  acted  on  the  others,  and  their  combined 
influence  has  done  much  to  determine  the  distin- 
guishing spirit  of  our  epoch  and  its  literature. 

The  advance  of  democracy.  By  the  year  1830  the 
conservative  reaction  which  had  followed  the  meet- 
ing of  the  Congress  of  Vienna,  had  given  way  before 
a  fresh  outbreak  of  the  revolutionary  spirit.  In  this 
year  the  Bourbon  king,  Charles  X.,  was  driven  by 
the  liberals  from  the  throne  of  France.  The  event 
awakened  in  Germany  a  responsive  agitation,  and 
the  progress  of  democracy  in  Europe,  which  had  but 
suffered  a  temporary  check,  was  resumed.  In  Eng- 
land this  tendency  showed  itself  in  changes  so  radi- 
cal that  they  constituted  in  fact  a  peaceable  and 
legal  revolution.  The  period  of  prophetic  anticipa- 
tion, the  period  of  disappointment  and  oppression, 
were  past,  and  the  nation  entered  upon  an  era  in 
which  the  ideas  of  democracy  were  to  be  actually 
put  into  practice  through  a  series  of  important 
reforms. 

For  centuries  the  landholding  class  had  governed 
the  country  and  monopolized  the  government  offices. 
Many  people  were  also  excluded  from  a  share  in 
political  power  by  reason  of  their  religious  views. 


BECENT  WRITERS  397 

By  successive  acts  many  of  these  religious  disabil- 
ities were  removed,  dissenters  and  Roman  Catho- 
lics permitted  to  hold  certain  town  and  government 
offices,  and  by  the  Emancipation  Bill  (1829)  Roman- 
ists were  allowed  to  sit  in  Parliament.  Still  more 
momentous  was  the  overthrow  of  the  political 
supremacy  of  the  landowner.  The  passage  of  a 
Reform  Bill  in  1832  extended  the  franchise  to 
the  middle  class,  which  during  the  industrial  and 
commercial  growth  of  the  past  century  had  in- 
creased in  wealth  and  importance  ;  and  by  this  and 
other  changes  Parliament  became  more  directly 
representative  of  the  people's  will.  A  second  Reform 
Bill  in  1867  admitted  the  working  class  to  a  share 
in  political  power,  while  a  third  and  still  more 
sweeping  act  in  1884-1885  still  farther  extended  the 
right  of  suffrage.  Within  half  a  centuiy  the  real 
governing  power  in  England  has  thus  been  peaceably 
transferred  from  an  exclusive  upper  class  to  the  great 
bulk  of  the  nation.  William  IV.  found  England 
practically  an  oligarchy.  Under  Victoria  it  has  be- 
come an  almost  unadulterated  democracy.  The  wide- 
spread results  of  this  transference  of  power  are  matters 
of  history.  It  lias  tended  to  weaken  class  distinc- 
tions, to  better  the  condition  of  the  working  class,  and 
to  give  increased  opportunities  for  popular  education. 
It  has  been  clearly  related  to  that  great  growth  of 
the  reading  public  and  those  wider  means  for  the 
spread  of  knowledge  which  are  so  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  literature  of  the  time.  The  social 
changes  and  agitations  of  which  these  Reform  Bills 
are  but  a  part  are  certainly  oae  of  the  greatest 


398         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATUKE 

features  in  the  history  of  our  time.  It  lias  been  said 
that  "  The  most  impressive  thing  in  Europe  to-day 
is  the  slow  and  steady  advance  of  the  British  democ- 
racy."* Thus  that  wider  human  sympathy  which 
we  saw  spring  up  and  increase  during  the  eighteenth 
century,  uttering  itself  with  gathering  power  and 
distinctness  in  a  long  succession  of  poets  from  Thom- 
son to  Shelley,  has  taken  in  our  time  an  increasingly 
definite  and  practical  form. 

But  these  reforms  have  been  far  from  satisfying 
many  who  long  for  a  yet  more  iadical  change.  The 
philanthropic  efforts  of  Robert  Owen  (1771-1858)  in 
behalf  of  the  factory  operative  and  the  poor  were 
followed  toward  the  middle  of  the  century  by  the 
Christian  socialism  of  Charles  Kingsley  (1819-1875) 
and  Frederic  Denison  Maurice  (1805-1872),  and  later 
(in  1860)  by  the  new  economic  teachings  of  John 
Buskin  (1819-1900),  the  importance  of  whose  work 
as  a  social  reformer  is  but  beginning  to  receive 
due  recognition.  Labor  on  its  part  has  banded  itself 
together  in  organizations  which  have  become  a  dis- 

O  ^ 

tinctive  feature  in  our  modern  society,  and  on  every 
side  there  are  signs  of  expectancy  and  social  unrest. 
These  aspirations  and  uncertainties  have  written 
themselves  in  the  pages  of  the  literature.  They  are 
echoed  in  our  poetry;  they  have  been  a  great  forma- 
tive influence  in  the  novel,  the  distinctive  literary 
form  of  the  day,  either  directly,  from  Godwin's  Caleb 
Williams  (1794)  to  Besant's  All  Sorts  and  Condi- 
tions of  Men  (1882),  and  Mrs.  Ward's  Marcetta 
(1894),  or  in  less  obvious  and  more  subtle  ways. 
*  V.  Rae's  Contemporary  Socialism. 


RECENT  WRITERS  399 

2.  The  more  general  diffusion  of  knowledge  and 
literature. 

The  more  general  diffusion  of  education,  the  pro- 
digious multiplication  of  cheap  books  and  reading 
matter  in  every  conceivable  shape,  is  closely  related 
to  the  democratic  spirit  of  society  and  to  the  advance 
of  applied  science.  Education,  like  political  power, 
is  no  longer  monopolized  by  an  exclusive  class  ;  the 
readers  are  the  people,  and  reading  matter,  if  not 
literature  in  the  stricter  sense,  is  now  produced  by 
them  and  for  them.  This  reading  public  has  been 
widening  since  the  days  of  Defoe  and  Addison. 
The  early  years  of  the  eighteenth  century  gave  birth 
to  the  periodical  essay,  and  many  of  the  great 
English  newspapers — The  Morning  Chronicle,  Tie 
Times,  The  Morning  Post^  The  Morning  Herald, 
founded  during  the  last  quarter  of  that  century — 
began  that  wider  influence  of  journalism  which  is 
one  of  the  features  of  the  present  time.  The  ris- 
ing literary  importance  of  mese  great  journals 
during  the  latter  eighteenth  and  early  nineteenth 
centuries  is  illustrated  by  the  fact  that  Coleridge, 
Lamb,  Thomas  Campbell,  and  William  Hazlitt,  a 
noted  English  literary  critic,  were  among  their  con- 
tributors. Newspapers  have  rapidly  multiplied  dur- 
ing the  present  century,  and  their  circulation  has 
enormously  increased  with  the  removal  of  the  stamp 
and  paper  duties  which  were  formerly  levied  upon 
them,  and  with  the  improved  mechanical  means  for 
their  production.*  "  A  preaching  Friar,"  wrote 

*  "  In  1827  there  were  308  newspapers  published  in  the 
United  Kingdom,  of  which  55  were  in  London.  In  1887  the 


-400        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Thomas  Carlyle  in  1831,  "  settles  himself  in  every 
village  and  builds  a  pulpit  which  he  calls  a  news- 
paper ;  therefrom  he  preaches  what  momentous 
'doctrine  is  in  him,  and  dost  thou  not  hsten  and  be- 
lieve ?  "  Through  the  pages  of  his  Weekly  Register 
(established  1815)  it  was  possible  for  William  Cob- 
belt,  the  son  of  a  day-laborer  in  Surrey,  to  become 
one  of  the  most  powerful  political  writers  of  his 
time.  The  opening  of  the  present  century  saw  the 
introduction  of  another  important  agency  in  widen- 
ing the  power  of  literature,  in  the  foundation  of  the 
great  reviews.  TJie  Edinburgh  Review,  an  organ  of 
Whig  or  Liberal  opinions,  was  started  in  1802,  nearly 
a  century  after  the  foundation  of  The  Taller.  This 
provoked  the  establishment,  in  1809,  of  The  London 
Quarterly,  which  came  forward  as  an  advocate  of 
opposite  political  views.  Among  the  reviews  and 
periodicals  that  followed  were  Blackwood's  Maga- 
zine in  1817,  The  Westminster  Review  in  1824,  and 
two  weekly  papers  of  a  high  order,  The  Athenceum 
and  The  Spectator,  in  1828.  These  magazines  had 
the  support  of  many  of  the  ablest  and  best  known 
writers  of  the  day,  and  many  of  them  were  immensely 
stimulating  to  the  public  interest  in  literature.  Even 
the  partisanship  and  ferocity  of  some  of  the  book- 
reviews  were  not  actually  without  good  result,  as 
they  tended  to  promote  literary  discussion.  Thus 
Francis  Jeffrey,  the  first  editor  of  The  Edinburgh, 
pronounced  his  sentence  of  condemnation  on  the 

number  of  newspapers  published  in  the  British  Islands  is 
given  at  2125;  435  of  which  are  published  in  London." 
7.  Ward's  Reign  of  Victoria,  voL  ii.  p.  509, 


BECENT  WBITEB8  401 

poetry  of  Wordsworth  ;  Coleridge  defended  his 
friend's  poetic  principles  in  his  Biographia  Lite- 
faria  (1817)  ;  Wordsworth  himself  stated  them  in 
prefatory  essays  to  his  poems.  Hazlitt,  Lamb, 
Southey,  De  Quincey,  and  Walter  Savage  Landor 
were  writing  during  these  early  years  of  our  century 
on  books  and  w/iters  past  and  present,  so  that  the 
time  may  be  thought  of  as  a  period  of  literary 
criticism. 

But  literature  and  knowledge  were  passing  even 
beyond  these  limits  to  leaven  the  poorer  and  more 
ignorant  strata  of  society.  A  literature  more  espe- 
cially devoted  to  the  cause  of  popular  education  be- 
came important  about  the  time  of  the  first  Reform 
Bill.  Men  like  Charles  Knight  (1791-1873),  the 
brothers  William  and  Robert  Chambers,  George  L. 
Craik,  and  Samuel  Smiles  consecrated  their  lives  and 
energies  to  this  work,  the  importance  of  which  it  is  not 
easy  to  overestimate.  In  the  year  of  the  passage  of 
the  Reform  Bill  (1832)  two  cheap  magazines  were 
established.  The  first  of  these,  The  Penny  Magazine, 
was  established  in  London  by  Charles  Knight;  the 
second,  Chambers'  Edinburgh  Journal,  was  started 
quite  independently  by  the  Chambers  brothers.  Both 
of  these  were  enormously  popular,  the  former  reach- 
ing a  circulation  of  two  hundred  thousand  copies  at 
the  end  of  a  year.  Besides  cheap  and  good  periodi- 
cal literature,  there  were  penny  cyclopedias,  cheap 
editions  of  good  authors,  and  the  beginning  of  those 
means  for  the  diffusion  of  literature  and  knowledge 
which  are  now  so  familiar  that  we  are  apt  to  forget 
their  true  significance.  By  the  legislative  provision 


402        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

for  popular  education  (Foster  Education  Act,  1870), 
and  by  private  enterprise,  Victorian  England  has 
shown  her  deep  sense  of  the  duty  and  the  necessity 
of  a  general  education.  Carlyle  spoke  in  the  best 
spirit  of  the  time  when  he  declared,  "  If  the  whole 
English  people,  during  these  'twenty  years  of  respite,* 
be  not  educated,  ...  a  tremendous  responsibility 
before  God  and  man  will  rest  somewhere."  * 

3.  The  advance  of  science.  Science,  which  has 
attracted  to  its  service  a  large  proportion  of  the  in- 
tellectual force  of  the  time,  has  conspicuously  affected 
the  life  of  modern  England  in  two  distinct  ways. 
First,  by  its  application  to  directly  practical  ends  it 
has  wrought  a  revolution  in  the  material  condi- 
tions of  civilized  life.  So  far  as  his  physical  sur- 
roundings are  concerned,  the  civilized  man  of  to-day 
lives  in  a  new  earth  which  science  has  created 
for  him.  And  second,  by  its  researches  into  the 
history  and  nature  of  things,  by  theories  which 
touch  upon  the  problems  of  man's  origin  and  destiny, 
science  has  been  a  disturbing  or  modifying  element 
in  almost  all  contemporary  thought,  and  in  almost 
every  department  of  intellectual  activity.  In  brief, 
it  has  both  transformed  life  and  altered  our  concep- 
tion of  life  ;  it  has  done  much  to  change  the  aspect 
of  the  world  without,  and  it  has  penetrated  the  life 
of  the  very  soul  within. 

Many  of  those  important  changes  in  the  outward 
conditions  of  daily  life  which  have  followed  the  prac- 
tical application  of  science  to  life,  date  from  about 
that  period  which  we  have  fixed  upon  as  the  begin- 
*  Past  and  Present,  bk.  iv.  ch.  iii. 


RECENT  WRITERS  403 

ning  of  the  present  literary  era.  In  1830  the  Liver- 
pool and  Manchester  Railroad  went  into  operation, 
and  six  or  seven  years  later  a  great  period  of  railroad 
construction  began.  The  first  electric  telegraph  in 
England  was  erected  in  1837,  the  year  of  Victoria's 
accession,  and  steam  communication  with  the  United 
States  was  begun  in  the  following  year.  These  new 
means  of  locomotion  and  transportation,  like  those 
new  means  of  production  which  immediately  preceded 
them,  have  helped  to  create  the  modern  spirit,  the 
note  of  personality  which  marks  the  time.  The 
facilities  for  quick  and  easy  intercourse  meant  the 
further  breaking  down  of  old  barriers  between  town 
and  country,  between  section  and  section  ;  they  meant 
the  lessening  of  provincialism  or  ignorant  prejudice, 
and  they  meant  the  opportunity  for  the  transmission 
of  newspapers  and  of  news ;  so  in  this,  as  in  many 
other  ways,  modern  science  came  as  an  ally  of  modern 
democracy.  On  the  other  hand  these  changes  have 
rudely  broken  in  upon  seclusion  and  contemplation ; 
modern  industrialism,  with  its  railroads  and  factories, 
has  made  the  world  uglier ;  intenser  competition  and 
greater  chances  of  money-making  have  made  man 
more  selfish  and  sordid.  Wordsworth  lived  to  lament 
the  invasion  of  the  peaceful  retirement  of  his  be- 
loved Cumberland  by  the  railway  and  the  tourist. 

"  The  world  is  too  much  with  us,  late  and  soon," 

at  least  twice  a  day  it  gets  itself  recorded  in  print, 
and  insists  upon  thrusting  in  our  faces  the  catalogue 
of  its  latest  crimes  and  scandals.  It  is  as  though  we 
lived  in  the  street. 


404        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEBATUBH 

"Jaded  with  the  rush  and  glare 
Of  the  interminable  hours,"  * 

and  were  unwilling  or  unable  to  take  sanctuary  in 
the  dimness  and  coolness.  All  this  has  tended  to 
foster  in  us  that  feverish  haste  and  activity,  that 
desire  for  the  new  thing,  however  ignorant  we  may 
be  of  the  old,  which  seems  hardly  conducive  to  the 
creation  of  enduring  masterpieces  of  literature. 
"  Wherever  we  are,  to  go  somewhere  else  ;  whatever 
we  have,  to  get  something  more  ; "  these,  according 
to  Ruskin's  caustic  aphorism,  are  the  moving  desires 
of  the  modern  world. 

The  second  effect  of  the  advance  of  science,  its 
modification  or  disturbance  of  thought  or  belief,  is 
also  to  be  taken  into  account  in  our  study  of  recent 
literature.  The  year  1830,  which  witnessed  a  tri- 
umph of  applied  science,  was  also  productive  in 
purely  scientific  investigation.  Sir  Charles  Lyell's 
Principles  of  Geology  (1830),  expanding  men's 
imaginations  by  its  revelation  of  the  vast  extent  of 
earth's  past,  was  one  of  the  first  of  those  many  books 
of  science  which,  during  the  last  half  century,  have 
combined  to  modify  some  of  our  fundamental  ideas 
of  life.  This  book,  says  Professor  Huxley,  "  consti- 
tuted an  epoch  in  geological  science,"  and  also  pre- 
pared the  world  for  the  doctrine  of  evolution.  This 
last  named  theory  of  the  beginning  and  the  law  of 
life,  put  forth  by  Charles  Darwin  and  Alfred  Russell 
Wallace  in  1859,  steadily  forced  upon  those  who 
accepted  it  a  wholesale  readjustment  of  their  ideas 

*  The  Buried  Life,  Arnold. 


RE-CENT  WRITERS  405 

«emparable  to  that  which  the  discovery  of  Copernicus 
forced  upon  our  forefathers.  It  struck  at  the  root 
of  men's  conceptions  of  existence ;  its  influence 
reached  far  outside  the  ranks  of  the  specialist,  into 
the  whole  world  of  thought,  moving  men  to  utter 
again  the  old  cry  : 

"  Woe  is  me  ! 

Whence  are  we,  and  why  are  we  ?    Of  what  scene 
The  actors  or  spectators  ?  " 

With  new  problems  and  aspirations,  social,  scientific 
or  religious  ;  with  a  world  that  seerns  to  move  with 
an  ever-accelerating  rush  and  swiftness  ;  our  literature 
has  been  heavy-laden  with  the  burden  of  our  serious- 
ness and  our  complaining.  The  childlike  lightsome- 
ness  of  Chaucer's  England,  the  young  energy  of 
Shakespeare's,  the  shallow  flippancy  and  finical  polish 
of  Pope's,  all  these  have  passed.  In  Arnold's  magnifi- 
cent and  melancholy  lines,  the  England  of  to-day  is 

"  The  weary  Titan,  with  deaf 
Ears  and  labor-dimmed  eyes. 

Bearing  on  shoulders  immense 

Atlantean,  the  load 

Well-nigh  not  to  be  borne, 

Of  the  too  vast  orb  of  her  fate."* 

This  is  the  England  whose  voice  is  heard  in  our 
Victorian  literature. 

The  new  conditions  of  life  and  thought  which  thus 
took  rise  in  England  in  about  the  year  1830,  found 
about  that  time  a  group  of  young  writers 
capable  of  interpreting  them.  By  that 
year  the  extraordinary  outburst  of  poetic 
genius  which  began  during  the  closing  years  of  th« 
*  "  Heine's  Grave." 


406        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

preceding  century  had  spent  its  force.  "Words- 
worth, Coleridge,  and  Southey  still  lived,  indeed,  but 
their  work  was  done  ;  while  the  recent  and  untimely 
deaths  of  Keats,  Shelley,  and  Byron  had  made  a 
sudden  gap  in  English  poetry.  Scott  was  nearing 
the  end  of  his  gallant  struggle  with  adversity,  hold- 
ing to  his  work  with  unflinching  tenacity,  but  with 
failing  body  and  mind.  Into  the  firmament  thus 
strangely  left  vacant  of  great  lights,  there  rose  a  new 
star.  It  was  in  1830  that  Alfred  Tennyson,  the 
representative  English  poet  of  our  era,  definitely 
entered  the  literary  horizon  by  the  publication  of  his 
Poems,  Chiefly  Lyrical.  Macaulay  and  Carlyle,  two 
writers  who  were  to  occupy  a  large  space  in  the  prose 
of  the  opening  era,  had  entered  literature  a  few  years 
before  the  advent  of  Tennyson  ;  and  immediately 
after  his  coming  many  of  the  other  great  writers  of 
the  epoch  crowd  in  quick  succession.  The  next 
decade  sees  the  advent  of  Robert  Browning  (Pauline, 
1833)  ;  Elizabeth  Barrett,  afterward  Mrs.  Brown- 
ing (Prometheus  Bound,  1833)  ;  Charles  Dickens 
(Sketches  by  J3oz,  1834)  ;  William  Makepeace  Thack- 
eray ( Yellowplush  Papers,  1837),  and  John  Ruskin 
(Salsette  and  Elephanta,  1839). 

It  is  not  easy  to  form  any  general  conception  of 
the  literary  period  thus  begu".  The  sixty  years  which 
make  up  the  Victorian  era  have  been  years  of  immense 
literary  activity  and  productiveness  ;  many,  and  often 
conflicting,  elements  have  found  expression  in  them, 
and  even  ID  this  comparatively  short  space,  so  rapid 
has  been  the  movement,  so  fierce  and  unremitting  the 
piessure  of  the  time,  that  successive  phases  of  thought 


RECENT  WRITERS  407 

or  style  have  followed  each  other  with  confusing  swift- 
ness. The  general  features  of  the  Victorian  litera- 
ture will  grow  clearer  to  us  through  a  study  of  some 
of  those  authors  who  represent  its  diversified  activity. 
The  pi'actical  and  prosperous  temper  of  an  Eng- 
land that  sixty  years  ago  seemed  entering  upon  a 
period  of  solid  comfort  and  prosperity, 

is  reflected  in  the  work  of  the  brilliant   T-B-Macau' 

lay- 
essayist  and  historian,  Thomas  Babing- 

ton  Macaulay  (1800-1859).  From  his  first  publica- 
tion, an  essay  on  Milton  in  the  Edinburgh  Review, 
1825,  Macaulay's  career  was  one  of  unbroken  and 
well-deserved  success.  Few  writers  have  brought  to 
their  work  more  enthusiasm  for  literature,  or  more 
patient  industry  ;  few  have  ruled  over  a  wider  range 
of  reading,  or  collected  a  store  of  information  as 
diversified  and  exact.  Macaulay  was  the  born  man 
of  letters.  Before  he  was  eight  he  was  a  historian 
and  a  poet;  having  compiled  a  Compendium  of  Uni- 
versal History,  and  written  a  romantic  poem,  The 
battle  of  Cheviot.  From  the  first  he  was  an  insati- 
able reader  ;  from  childhood  he  began  laying  up  in 
his  prodigious  memory  those  ever-accumulating 
stores  which  were  to  constitute  his  magnificent 
literary  equipment.  His  nurse  said  "  he  talked 
quite  like  printed  books,"  showing  a  command  of 
language  which  greatly  amused  his  elders.  When 
he  was  about  four,  some  hot  coffee  was  spilled  on 
him  while  out  visiting  with  his  father.  In  answer 
to  the  compassionate  inquiries  of  his  hostess  he 
replied  :  "  Thank  you,  madam,  the  agony  is  abated."* 
*  Trevelyan's  Macaulay,  i.  p.  40. 


408        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

As  Macaulay  grew  to  manhood  his  juvenile  tastes 
were  turned  into  solid  acquirements,  and  there  is 
something  substantial  and  well-rounded  in  the  life 
built  on  these  good  foundations.  He  was  successful 
as  statesman  and  as  author.  He  was  courted  and 
admired  in  the  most  distinguished  circles  ;  and  his- 
wide  reading,  his  phenomenal  memory,  his  brilliant 
conversation,  sparkling  with  spoils  from  many  lit- 
eratures, helped  to  make  him  a  social  and  literary 
leader.  He  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  world  and  the 
age  in  which  he  found  himself;  finding  it  full  of  sub- 
stantial comforts,  and  a  sensible  and  rational  progress. 
England  with  her  ever-lengthening  miles  of  railroads, 
with  the  smoke  of  her  thousand  factories,  with  her 
accumulating  gains,  delighted  him  with  her  tangible 
and  visible  successes.  But  to  his  shrewd  and  practi- 
cal intelligence  the  spiritual  hungers  and  alternations, 
the  mysterious  raptures  and  despairs  of  finer  and 
more  ethereal  natures,  must  have  seemed  wholly  un- 
intelligible. After  reading  Wordsworth's  Prelude 
he  writes  in  his  diary  :  "  There  are  the  old  raptures 
about  mountains  and  cataracts  ;  the  old  flimsy  phi- 
losophy about  the  effect  of  scenery  on  the  mind  ; 
the  old  crazy  mystical  metaphysics ;  the  endless 
•Jvilderness  of  dull,  flat  prosaic  twaddle  ;  and  here 
and  there  fine  descriptions  and  energetic  declamations 
interspersed."*  Macaulay  felt,  to  use  his  own  oft- 
quoted  phrase,  that  "  an  acre  in  Middlesex  is  better 
than  a  principality  in  Utopia."  The  very  soul  of 
genius  looks  out  at  us  through  Shelley's  dreamy  and 
delicate  features  ;  we  know  where  his  principality 
*  Trevelyan's  Macaulay,  ii.  p.  239. 


BECENT  WBTTEWs  409 

lies.  Carlyle  thought  once,  as  he  looked  unobserved 
at  Macaulay's  sturdy,  blunt  features,  with  their  traces 
pf  Scottish  origin,  "  Well,  anyone  can  see  that  you  are 
*n  honest,  good  sort  of  a  fellow,  made  out  of  oat- 
'neal."*  In  truth  Macaulay  was  as  naturally  and 
happily  in  accord  with  the  average  sentiment  of  the 
xaassof  men  about  him,  as  Shelley  was  out  of  tune 
•vith  it ;  and  his  ability,  unlike  the  mystical  power  of 
Shellev,  differs  from  that  of  the  average  man  less  in 

*    *  O 

kind  than  in  degree.  Not  only  has  such  a  tempera- 
ment a  better  chance  of  happiness  than  a  more  ideal 
one  ;  not  only  is  it  better  fitted  for  worldly  success  ; 
in  Macaulay's  case  it  was  this  very  glorified  common- 
placeness  which  qualified  him  for  the  great  work  he 
had  to  do.  Robust,  upright,  manly,  un-ideal,  it  was 
easy  for  the  growing  reading  public  to  understand 
him,  and  to  these  popular  qualities  he  added  wide 
scholarship  and  a  style  of  absolute  clearness,  of  cap- 
tivating movement,  and  unwearied  brilliancy.  We 
cannot  wonder  that  Macaulay,  following  close  on 
those  means  for  widening  the  sphere  of  literature 
already  noted,  should  have  become  to  the  growing 
circle  of  readers  the  great  popular  educator  of  his 
time.  His  essays,  covering  a  great  range  of  subjects, 
brought  history  and  literature  to  the  people  through 
the  pages  of  the  magazines.  India  came  home  to 
them  in  his  Clive  and  Hastings  ;  Italy  in  his  Jfachia- 
velli  ;  England  in  his  Chatham;  literature  in  his 
Milton  and  his  Johnson.  The  comparative  com- 
pactness with  which  these  subjects  were  handled, 
the  impetuous  rush  and  eloquence  of  the  style,  their 
*  Trevelyan's  Macaulay,  i.  p.  23. 


410         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

picturesqueness,  richness,  their  sparkling  antithesis, 
took  the  public  by  storm.  And  Macaulay  has  still 
another  qualification  as  a  missionary  of  learning  ;  he 
was,  in  Lord  Melbourne's  neat  phrase  "cock-sure  of 
everything."  Such  confidence  hardly  indicates  power 
of  the  finest  order,  but  none  the  less  it  is  often  grate- 
ful to  untrained  minds,  which  qualification  and  reser- 
vation tend  to  confuse.  As  an  English  writer  *  says, 

O  J      t 

in  an  admirable  bit  of  criticism  on  this  point :  "  unin- 
structed  readers  like  this  assui'ance,  as  they  like  a 
physician  who  has  no  doubt  upon  their  case." 

The  great  work  of  Macaulay 's  later  years  was  his 
History  of  England  from  the  accession  of  Jam&s  II. 
On  this  task  he  concentrated  all  the  fullness  of  his 
powers  :  he  brought  to  it  a  high  standard  of  excel- 
lence, an  infinite  capacity  for  taking  pains,  a  mar- 
velous style,  and  the  loving  labor  of  a  lifetime. 
More  than  a  century  before,  Addison  had  declared 
that  through  The  Spectator  he  would  bring  philosophy 
out  of  the  closet,  and  make  it  dwell  in  clubs  and 
coffeehouses.  Macaulay,  who  is  to  be  associated 
with  Addison  as  accomplishing  a  similar  work  on  a 
far  larger  scale,  wrote  before  the  publication  of  his 
History,  "  I  shall  not  be  satisfied  unless  I  produce 
something  which  shall  for  a  few  days  supersede  the 
last  fashionable  novel  on  the  tables  of  young  ladies."  f 
The  immense  sale  of  his  book,  absolutely  unpre- 
cedented in  a  work  of  this  character,  is  overwhelming 
testimony  to  Macaulay's  position  as  a  popularizer  of 
knowledge.  "  Within  a  generation  of  its  first  appear- 

*Rev.  Mark  Pattison. 

f  Trevelyan's  Macaulay,  ii.  p.  327. 


BECENT  WRITERS  411 

ance,"  writes  hig  biographer,  "upward  of  one  hun« 
dred  and  forty  thousand  copies  of  the  History  will 
have  been  printed  and  sold  in  the  United  Kingdom 
alone,"  while  according  to  Everett  no  book  ever  had 
such  a  sale  in  the  United  States,  "  except  the  Bible 
and  one  or  two  school-books  of  universal  use."  *  We 
should  be  careful  to  estimate  the  importance  of 
Macaulay's  work  at  its  full  value  ;  we  should  appre- 
ciate the  soundness  and  manliness  of  his  life  and 
character  ;  we  should  realize  his  peculiar  significance 
at  a  time  when  literature  was  becoming  more  dem- 
ocratic. At  the  same  time  we  should  feel  that,  great 
as  his  gifts  were,  they  were  not  of  the  highest  order ; 
excellent  as  his  aims  were,  they  were  not  the  loftiest 
nor  the  most  ideal.  If  we  compare  the  two  famous 
essays  on  Johnson,  the  one  by  Macaulay  and  the 
other  by  Carlyle,  we  shall  perceive  that  the  first  is 
the  brilliant,  graphic  production  of  a  capable  and 
highly  trained  man  of  letters  ;  that  the  second  has 
the  penetrative  insight,  the  more  exquisite  tender- 
ness of  the  man  of  genius. 

In  passing  from  Macaulay,  the   versatile  and   ac- 
complished man  of  letters,  to  Thomas  Carlyle  (1795- 
1881),    the    great    man    whose   Titanic 
energy  and  invigorating  power  sought   Thomas 
an  outlet  through  the  making  of  books, 
we  are  impressed,  at  the  very  outset,  with  a  strong 
sense  of  dramatic  contrast.     Study  the  portraits  of 
the  two  men  :  Macaulay,  as  he  looks  out  at  us  from 
the  front  of  Trevelyan's  biography,  round-faced,  un- 
wrinkled,  smooth-shaven,  complacent  ;  Carlyle,  with 
f  Trevelyan's  Macaulay.  ii.  p.  327. 


412         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

his  tumble  of  hair  and  shaggy  beard,  his  gaunt  face, 
worn  and  lined  with  innumerable  wrinkles,  his  sunken 
cheeks  and  deep-set,  wonderful  eyes.  The  face  of 
an  inspired  peasant  ;  lit  up  at  times,  so  those  who 
knew  him  tell  us,  by  a  strong  and  passionate  vehe- 
mence, expressive  of  scorn,  of  humor;  expressive,  too, 
of  that  infinite  reserve  of  tenderness  that  lay  in  the 
deep  places  of  his  strong  nature.  To  this  man  life 
was  terribly  and  tragically  earnest.  He  battled 
through  it,  with  set  teeth  and  iron  purpose,  as  a 
strong  man  forces  and  shoulders  his  way  through 
a  tangled  jungle.  "  Woe  unto  them,"  he  said  to  his 
friend  Sterling,  and  reiterated  in  his  essay  on  Scott — 
"  woe  unto  them  that  are  at  ease  in  Zion."  He  lives 

"  As  ever  in  his  great  Task-master's  eye  ; " 

he  adds  to  the  stern  and  inflexible  conception  of  duty 
characteristic  of  his  Calvinistic  ancestry,  that  in- 
dwelling sense  of  God's  presence  so  strong  in  the 
Hebrew  prophet,  so  rare  in  our  modern  Western 
world.  To  him  as  to  Wordsworth  the  world  is  "  the 
living  garment  of  God,"  creation  definable  in  one  or 
another  language  as  God's  "realized  thought." 
Standing  thus  in  the  porch  of  the  infinite,  he  never 
loses  that  awe  and  wonder  which  the  most  of  ua 
never  feel,  or,  feeling,  so  easily  put  by.  A  man  who 
dwells  with  "the  immensities  and  the  eternities"  is 
not  likely  to  adapt  himself  to  the  world's  ways,  or 
agree  with  the  world's  judgments  ;  rather  like  the 
risen  Lazarus  in  Browning's  Epistle  of  Jfarshish,  he 
brings  from  other  regions  a  standard  which  the 
world  cannot  understand.  Hence,  while  Macaulay 


THOMAS     CARLYLE 


BECENT  WRITERS  413 

was  in  comfortable  accord  with  an  age  of  material 
progress,  teaching,  as  Emerson  said,  "  that  '  good  * 
means  good  to  eat,  good  to  wear,  material  com- 
modity," Carlyle  often  stood  apart  in  flat  antago- 
nism and  fiery  denunciation.  Uncompromising  to 
himself,  he  was  habitually  uncompromising  toward 
others  ;  crying  out  to  a  faithless  and  blinded  genera- 
tion as  some  stern  prophet  of  the  desert.  Writing 
in  Sartor  Resartus  of  Teufelsdrockh,  the  imaginary 
philosopher  into  whose  mouth  he  put  his  own  teach- 
ing, and  whose  experiences  in  many  instances  are  but 
reflections  of  his  own,  Carlyle  says  :  "  In  our  wild 
Seer,  shaggy,  unkempt,  like  a  Baptist  living  on  locusts 
and  wild  honey,  there  is  an  untutored  energy,  a  silent, 
as  it  were,  unconscious  strength,  which,  except  in  the 
higher  walks  of  Literature,  must  be  rare."*  This 
may  stand,  with  certain  reservations,  as  a  picture  of 
Carlyle  himself ;  in  its  spirit  and  broad  outlines 
nssentially  true. 

Thomas  Carlyle  was  born  at  Ecclefechan,  a  little 
fillage  in  Dumfriesshire,  December  4, 1795.  Froude 
describes  the  place  as  "  a  small  market  town  consist- 
ing of  a  single  street,  down  the  side  of  which,  at  that 
time,  ran  an  open  brook.  The  aspect,  like  that  of 
most  Scotch  towns,  is  cold,  but  clean  and  orderly, 
with  an  air  of  thrift}'  comfort. "f  About  sixty  miles 
to  the  northwest  of  Ecclefechan  lay  the  district 
which  had  brought  forth  Burns,  that  other  great 
Scotch  peasant,  of  whose  life  Carlyle  was  to  be  the 
truest  interpreter.  Some  thirty  miles  to  the  south, 

*  Sartor  Resartus,  bk.  i.  ch.  IT. 
f  Froude's  Carlyle,  L  p.  3. 


414        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

at  the  edge  of  the  Cumberland  Hills,  was  the  birth* 
place  of  Wordsworth.  Carlyle's  father,  James  Car- 
lyle,  was  a  thrifty,  hard-working  stone-mason  ;  a 
sterling,  unapproachable,  reticent  man,  with  strong 
religious  convictions,  and  a  faculty  of  concise  and 
vigorous  speech.  He  possessed  "  Humor  of  a  most 
grim,  Scandinavian  type,"  a  quality  which  notably 
characterized  his  son.  James  Carlyle  was  one  of  five 
brothers,  graphically  described  by  an  apprentice  to 
one  of  them  as  "  a  curious  sample  of  folks,  pithy, 
bitter-speakin'  bodies,  an'  awfu'  fichters."  Accord- 
ing to  Carlyle  himself,  they  were  remarkable  for 
"  their  brotherly  affection  and  coherence  ;  for  their 
hard  sayings  and  hard  strikings."  When  such  a 
granite  stock  produces  a  genius — a  man  that  can 
speak  for  it — we  may  look  for  originality,  a  strong 
accent,  an  iron  grip,  and  a  stroke  like  that  from 
a  sledge-hammer.  There  is  little  in  the  outward 
events  of  Carlyle's  life  that  need  detain  us.  In  his 
childish  years  he  led  "not  a  joyful  life,"  he  tells  us, 
"  but  a  safe  and  quiet  one."  His  home  was  the  pru- 
dent, God-fearing  household  of  the  Scotch  peasant  ; 
all  the  surroundings  wholesome,  perhaps,  but  some- 
what rigid  and  repressing.  "An  inflexible  element 
of  authority,"  Carlyle  writes,  "surrounded  us  all." 
He  ran  barefoot  with  his  brothers  and  sisters,  all 
younger  than  himself,  in  the  street  of  Ecclefechan  ; 
he  was  sent  to  the  village  school,  and  afterward  to 
the  grammar  school  at  Annan,  a  town  on  the  Solway 
Firth,  some  eight  miles  from  home.  His  parents 
were  proud  of  the  ability  he  showed,  and  were 
anxious  to  fit  him  for  the  ministry  of  the  Kirk- 


RECENT  WRITERS  415 

naturally  the  highest  ambition  of  such  a  household  ; 
so  at  fourteen  he  entered  the  University  of  Edin- 
burgh, having  walked  the  eighty  miles  that  lay 
between  Ecclefechan  and  the  capital.  He  succeeded 
in  obtaining  a  place  as  teacher  of  mathematics  in  the 
Annan  Academy,  and  left  the  university  in  1814, 
before  taking  his  degree,  to  enter  on  his  duties.  In 
1816  he  gave  up  his  post  to  become  master  of  a 
school  in  Kirkcaldy.  But  the  drudgery  of  teaching 
became  intolerable,  and  a  change  in  his  religious 
views  had  forced  him  to  abandon  the  idea  of  enter- 
ing the  ministry.  In  1818  he  took  his  little  savings 
and  settled  in  Edinburgh,  where  he  began  the  study 
of  the  law.  But  he  had  not  yet  found  his  work. 
Law  lectures  proved  indescribably  dull  to  him, 
"seeming  to  point  toward  nothing  but  money  as 
wages  for  all  that  bog-post  of  disgust." 

Already  dyspepsia,  his  lifelong  tormentor,  had 
fastened  upon  him.  He  knew  that  he  was  "  the 
miserable  owner  of  a  diabolical  arrangement  called 
a  stomach,"  a  bitter  knowledge  that  never  left  him. 
These  years  of  uncertain  prospects  and  physical  suf- 
fering were  also  a  critical  time  of  doubt,  despair,  and 
fierce  spiritual  conflict.  He  has  told  us  in  Sartor 
Kesartus  the  story  of  this  period  of  "  mad  fermenta- 
tion," with  its  doubts  of  God,  of  the  obligations  of 
duty,  of  the  reality  of  virtue.  How  he  stood  in 
those  days  of  trial,  "  shouting  question  after  question 
into  the  Sibyl  cave  and  receiving  for  answer  an 
echo ";  how  he  called  out  for  truth,  though  the 
heavens  should  crush  him  for  following  her  ;  how  he 
reached  at  length  the  appointed  hour  of  deliverance 


416        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

when,  in  a  mysterious  flash  of  conversion,  he  came 
forth  free,  independent,  defiant.  We  must  study 
this  crisis  of  the  spirit  in  the  words  of  Carlyle  him- 
self, remembering  the  intensity  of  his  nature,  his 
passion  for  probing  things  to  the  center,  his  sincerity, 
his  capacity  for  faith. 

Meanwhile  Carlyle's  aspirations  had  turned  toward 
literature,  and  he  had  contributed  a  number  of  arti- 
cles to  the  Edinburgh  Encyclopaedia.  He  also  began 
to  learn  German,  a  study  destined  to  powerfully 
affect  his  life  and  work.  His  German  studies 
brought  him  into  contact  with  a  literature  which 
seemed  to  reveal  to  him  "  a  new  heavens  and  a 
new  earth."  He  became  an  enthusiastic  student  of 
Richter.  His  works  give  evidence  of  his  absorption 
of  the  ideal  philosophy  of  Fichte,  and  above  all  he 
came  under  the  spell  of  Goethe.  These  studies  did 
more  than  color  Carlyle's  thought  and  help  to  pro- 
duce the  peculiar  mannerism  and  eccentricity  of 
his  style.  There  was  at  that  time  a  furor  for  German 
literature,  and  the  literary  results  of  Carlyle's  studies 
thus  fortunately  happened  to  fall  in  with  the  popular 
demand.  Thus  in  1822  he  contributed  an  article  on 
Faust  to  the  New  Edinburgh  Review;  his  transla- 
tion of  Goethe's  Wilhelm  Meister  appeared  in  1824  ; 
his  Life  of  Schiller,  which  had  previously  come  out 
in  the  London  Magazine,  was  published  in  book 
form  in  1825  ;  and  his  Specimens  of  German  Ro- 
mance in  1827.  The  year  before  the  publication  of 
the  book  last  named  he  married  Miss  Jane  Welsh,  the 
daughter  of  a  provincial  surgeon  of  good  family  and 
of  considerable  local  reputation.  On  her  father's 


RECENT  WRITERS 

death  Miss  Welsh  had  inherited  a  small  farm  at 
Craigenputtock,  in  Dumfriesshire,  and  there  Carlyle 
and  his  wife  settled  in  1828.  The  little  farmhouse 
was  set  solitary  in  the  midst  of  a  somewhat  dreary 
tract  of  moorland,  and  here,  shut  out  from  the  world, 
Carlyle  threw  himself  at  work  with  characteristic 
intensity.  He  had  left  behind  him  the  time  of  hack- 
work and  translations,  and  was  reaching  out  toward 
something  that  should  more  truly  represent  him.  He 
wrote  a  number  of  essays  for  the  Edinburgh,  among 
them  his  unapproachable  study  of  Burns  ;  and  there 
he  composed  Sartor  Resartus.  This  extraordinary 
book  contains  the  germ  of  Carlyle's  philosophy. 
His  grievous  uncertainties  and  hesitations  were  over. 
Much  had  been  lived  through  to  make  this  book, 
and  into  it  Carlyle  poured  what  he  had  gained,  in 
good  measure  and  running  over.  Carlyle's  person- 
ality is  always  present  in  his  writings,  but  never 
more  strongly  than  here.  Midway  in  this  mortal  life 
he  delivered  to  us  the  deepest  things  that  life  and 
suffering  had  taught  him,  the  essence  of  his  message. 
In  Sartor  Resartus,  with  its  indescribable  com- 
pound of  grim  humor,  abruptness,  tenderness,  gro- 
tesqueness,  broken  by  overpowering  torrents  of 
eloquence,  Carlyle  reveals  himself.  It  was  his 
master  passion  to  get  at  the  heart  of  any  object 
of  thought,  to  tear  away  all  the  external  and  out- 
ward aspects  through  which  any  fact  may  reveal 
itself  to  us,  and,  discarding  everything  superfluous 
and  accidental,  lay  bare  its  underlying  meaning.  In 
his  studies  of  men  he  does  not  rest  at  the  outward 
events  of  their  lives  ;  he  would  lay  hold  of  their  very 


418        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

souls,  and  it  is  this  which  gives  to  his  judgment  such 
an  extraordinary  truth  and  value.  In  the  same  way 
he  sees  that  in  every  case  there  is  the  outward  form 
in  which  a  fact  becomes  apparent  to  us,  its  body  ; 
and  there  is  its  soul,  its  inner  meaning  and  reality. 
"  It  is  the  duty  of  every  hero,"  he  declares  in  a  later 
book,  "to  bring  men  back  to  this  reality,"  to  force 
them  to  penetrate  beneath  the  surface,  to  teach  them 
"to  stand  upon  things  and  not  upon  the  shows  of 
things."  Sartor  Resartus,  or  the  tailor  re-tailored,  is 
the  philosophy  of  clothes,  that  is,  the  vesture  or  sym- 
bols of  things  ;  it  aims  to  point  us  to  the  reality  that 
underlies  these  outward  forms  or  clothes,  in  which 
the  underlying  fact  reveals  itself.  "Symbols  are 
properly  clothes — all  forms  whei'eby  spirit  manifests 
itself  to  sense,  whether  outwardly  or  in  the  imagina- 
tion, are  clothes  ;  man's  body  is  but  his  '  earthly 
vesture ' ;  the  universe  itself,  with  its  manifold  pro- 
duction and  reproduction,  is  but  the  living  garment 
of  God."  Through  all  the  book  spirit  is  recog- 
nized as  the  true  and  enduring  realit}r.  With  Car- 
lyle  it  is  the  things  which  are  unseen  that  are  eternal, 
and  in  this  he  stood  in  absolute  opposition  to  the 
material  and  scientific  element  in  his  time.  Human 
history  nself  is  but  the  clothing  of  ideas  in  acts,  and 
the  great  man,  or  hero,  is  but  the  highest  human 
revelation  of  the  will  and  spirit  of  God. 

In  1833  Sartor  Resartus  began  to  appear  in 
Fraser's  Magazine,  finding  but  few  readers  among 
a  bewildered  or  indifferent  public.  In  the  year  fol- 
lowing, Carlyle  took  a  decisive  step  in  leaving 
Craigenputtock  and  settling  in  London.  There  he 


RECENT  WRITERS  419 

lived,  during  the  forty-seven  years  that  remained  to 
him,  in  a  house  in  Chelsea,  which  became  the  resort 
of  many  distinguished  men,  and  was  thought  of  by 
many,  says  Professor  Masson,"  as  the  home  of  the  real 
king  of  British  letters."  Up  to  this  time  Carlyle's 
life  had  been  a  stubborn  fight  with  poverty.  He  had 
won  recognition  from  the  discriminating  few  ;  but  he 
would  write  in  his  own  way  and  in  no  other,  and  as 
yef  he  had  gained  nothing  like  a  popular  recognition. 
In  a  few  years  this  was  entirely  changed.  His 
popularity  was  begun  by  the  appearance  of  his 
French  Revolution,  in  1837.  About  the  same  time 
he  gave  the  first  of  several  courses  of  lectures,  which 
made  his  strange,  rugged  figure  and  impassioned 
earnestness  familiar  to  London  audiences.  He 
"toiled  terribly,"  bringing  forth  his  great  works 
with  indescribable  stress  and  effort.  In  1866,  shortly 
after  he  had  fought  his  way  through  a  mighty  task — 
his  Life  of  Frederick  the  Great — he  was  made  Lord 
Rector  of  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  a  post  of 
great  honor.  At  last  his  own  country  had  honored 
her  prophet,  but  the  triumph  was  shattered  by  the 
sudden  death  of  Mrs.  Carlyle,  "for  forty  years  the 
true  and  loving  helpmate  of  her  husband."  Fifteen 
years  longer  Carlyle  himself  lingered  on  ;  wandering 
about  the  Chelsea  Embankment  or  Battersea  Park, 
living  over  in  an  old  man's  dreams  that  past  which  he 
recorded  in  his  Reminiscences.  Strength  had  alto- 
gether left  him,  and  life  was  a  weariness.  He  died, 
February  4,  1881,  and  was  buried,  according  to  his 
wish,  beside  his  family  in  the  little  churchyard  at 
Ecclefechan. 


420         INTBODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATUBE 

With  all  deductions,  Carlyle  remains  one  of  the 
most  influential  and  considerable  figures  in  the 

literature  of  our  centuiy.  He  stands  in 
J"17  e  the  midst  of  its  noise  of  traffic,  its  haste 

to  get  rich,  the  prophet  of  the  spiritual 
and  the  unseen.  Wordsworth  had  protested  against 
that  custom,  that  daily  pressure  of  the  trivial,  which 
deadens  the  higher  side  of  our  nature,  ana  "  lies 
upon  us  like  a  weight."  Carlyle  helped  men  to  rid 
themselves  of  the  burden  of  the  petty  and  conven- 
tional, which  was  stunting  the  growth  of  their  souls. 
He  would  have  them  do  this,  not  by  seeking  refuge 
from  the  world  of  every  day  in  some  region  of 
cloudy  romance,  but  by  realizing  that,  looked  at 
rightly,  this  world  of  every  day  is  essentially  divine 
and  miraculous.  "  Is  not  nature,"  he  asks,  "  as 
eternal  and  immense  in  Annandale  as  she  is  at 
Chamouni  ?  The  chambers  of  the  east  are  opened  in 
every  land,  and  the  sun  comes  forth  to  sow  the  earth 
with  orient  pearl.  Night,  the  ancient  mother,  fol- 
lows him  with  her  diadem  of  stars  :  and  Arcturus  and 
Orion  call  me  into  the  infinitudes  of  space  as  they 
called  the  Druid  priest  or  the  shepherd  of  Chaldea."  * 
And  great  as  is  this  miracle  called  nature,  still 
greater  is  the  wonder  of  that  miracle  called  man. 
As  Carlyle  was  opposed  to  modern  science  in  his 
conception  of  the  physical  world,  seeing  in  it  a  living 
divine  revelation,  and  not  a  dead  "world  machine," 
he  likewise  became  more  and  more  at  odds  with  that 
view  of  society  which  would  regard  it  rather  as  a 

*  Froude's  Life,  i.  244.  Cf.  passage  on  Miracles  in  Heroes 
and  Hero  Worthip,  lect.  ii. 


RECENT  WRITERS  421 

mechanism  than  as  a  living  thing.  He  distrusted  the 
democratic  theories  and  reforms  which  marked  his 
time.  He  sneered  at  the  cry  for  "  ballot  boxes  and 
electoral  suffrages  "  ;  *  believing  that  the  saving  of 
the  world  must  come  not  through  majorities,  which 
were  ignorant  or  confused  ;  not  through  institutions, 
which  were  likely  to  become  mere  hollow,  ineffectual 
contrivances,  but  through  the  personal  element,  the 
hero  or  great  man,  who  had  been,  and  must  continue 
to  be,  the  largest  factor  in  history.  With  Cartyle 
there  is  no  patent  political  receipt  for  progress.  He 
has  no  patience  with  that  idea  of  history  which  regards 
human  society  as  an  organism  developed  according  to 
fixed  laws,  an  idea  which  reflects  the  scientific  temper 
of  our  time.  To  him  the  history  of  the  world  is  at 
bottom  the  history  of  the  great  men  who  have  worked 
here.  This  intense  individualism,  as  opposed  to 
merely  governmental  authority,  may  seem  to  suggest 
Byron  and  Shelley,  but  one  must  remember  that  with 
Carlyle  the  few  are  to  command,  the  many  to  obey. 

Without  attempting  to  codify  Carlyle's  work  into 
any  set  system,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  a  great  propor- 
tion of  it  is  closely  related  to  this  central  theory 
of  history.  In  the  Heroes  and  Hero  Worship  (1841) 
the  importance  of  the  great  man  in  histoiy  is  enforced 
by  a  study  of  a  series  of  heroes,  representative  of  the 
different  forms  in  which  the  hero  has  appeared.  It 
aims  to  show  that  in  all  these  cases  the  essential 
heroic  qualities — earnestness,  sincerity — have  been 
the  same.  So  the  lives  of  Frederick  the  Great  and 
of  Cromwell  are  but  more  exhaustive  studies  of  the 
*  Heroet  and  Hero  Worship,  lect.  iv. 


"422        INTKODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEEATUEE 

great  man  as  a  historic  factor.  Carlyle's  heroes  were 
commonly  taken  from  the  strong  men  who  had  the 
power  to  compel  the  world  to  do  their  will.  But  we 
must  not  fall  into  the  error  of  regarding  him  as  a 
mere  believer  in  brute  strength.  Right  and  might 
he  believed  were  in  the  long  run  synonymous,  not. 
because  might  made  right,  but  because  in  the  large 
movement  of  history  the  strongest  were  ultimately 
the  wisest,  the  most  righteous.  This  thought  of  the 
ultimate  triumph  of  right  over  wrong,  and  of  strength 
over  weakness,  is  the  text  of  his  French  Revolution. 
The  world  is  true  and  not  a  lie,  and  a  sham  govern- 
ment, grown  too  decrepit  to  govern,  like  that  in 
eighteenth  century  France,  is  a  lie  and  cannot  stand. 
Had  the  revolution  failed  to  take  place,  Carlyle  tells 
us,  he  would  have  despaired  of  the  world.  As  it  was 
it  demonstrated  that  though  the  mills  of  the  gods 
grind  slowly,  injustice,  misgovernment,  and  the 
scepter  of  the  strong  in  the  hand  of  weakness,  work 
at  last  the  inevitable  retribution.  "  Verily  there  is  a 
reward  for  the  righteous,  doubtless  there  is  a  God 
that  judgeth  the  earth." 

We  may  differ  in  our  estimate  of   the   truth  or 
value  of  Carlyle's  doctrines  ;  we  may  be  convinced  that 

hero  worship  is  a  vain  dream,  as  a  prac- 
Cariyi  tical  form  of  government  in  our  modern 

society  ;  but  this  need  not  at  all  inter- 
fere  with  our  admiration  for  his  books,  as  master- 
pieces of  literary  art.  Carlyle's  style  is  without 
parallel  in  the  entire  range  of  English  prose.  Often 
turgid  and  exclamatory,  its  lack  of  simplicity  and 
restraint  is  relieved  by  a  grim  play  of  humor,  or  for- 


RECENT  WRITERS  423 

gotten  in  the  momentum  of  its  terrific  earnestness. 
Under  all  mannerisms  we  know  that  a  strong  man  is 
speaking  to  us  out  of  the  depths  of  his  soul,  as  one  man 
seldom  dares  to  speak  to  another  in  this  solitary  and 
conventional  world.  Its  power  is  very  different  from 
that  of  mere  literary  dexterity.  "I  feel  a  fierce  glare 
of  insight  in  me  into  many  things,"  Carlyle  wrote  in 
his  Diary,  "  I  have  no  sleight  of  hand,  a  raw,  untrained 
savage,  for  every  civilized  man  lias  that  sleight."* 
His  French  Revolution  having  at  length  "  got  itself 
done"  after  incredible  effort,  Carlyle  seems  to  fairly 
hurl  it  in  the  face  of  the  public,  which  as  yet  would 
not  know  him.  "  You  have  not  had  for  a  hundred 
years,"  he  thunders,  "  any  book  that  comes  more 
direct  and  flaming  from  the  heart  of  a  living  man. 
Do  with  it  what  you  like,  you "  f 

This  determination  to  speak  what  was  in  him  to 
say,  in  his  own  fashion  and  without  regard  to  any 
literary  precedent,  is  another  of  the  many  traits 
which  Carlyle  and  Wordsworth  have  in  common. 
Both  belong  in  this  to  that  revolt  against  the  formal- 
ism of  the  Augustan  Age,  and  to  both  "  convention- 
ality was  the  deadly  sin." 

To  the  force  of  earnestness  and  unconventionality, 
Carlyle  added  a  phenomenal  descriptive  power.  He 
had  the  poet's  instinct  for  the  picturesque  and 
dramatic  ;  by  the  intense  concentration  of  his  imagina- 
tive insight  the  past  is  alive  not  only  for  him  but  for 
us  also ;  lie  both  sees  and  makes  us  see.  In  his 
French  Revolution,  the  "prose  epic  "  of  our  century, 
the  most  dramatic  episode  in  modern  history  has 

*  Froude's  Carlyle,  Hi.  p.  47.  -I-  Fronde's  Carlyle. 


424        INTBODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

received  its  greatest  interpretation  in  literature. 
The  descriptions  of  the  death  of  Louis  XV.,  of  the 
destruction  of  the  Bastile,  the  twilight  silence  of  a 
pastoral  idyl  after  its  noise  and  fury,  of  the  flight  aud 
capture  of  the  king — to  find  anything  comparable  to 
these  and  countless  others  like  these,  we  must  turn 
to  the  pages  of  our  greatest  poets.  Or  again,  what 
can  we  find  to  set  beside  those  pages  in  which  the 
meaning  and  wonder  of  a  great  city  are  flashed  on  us, 
as  though  we  had  been  suddenly  caught  up  into  the 
air  and  made  to  look  down  upon  it  with  the  compre- 
hensive and  penetrative  gaze  of  a  god.*  Carlyle,  too, 
is  one  of  the  greatest  of  word  portrait-painters. 
Read  his  description  of  the  face  of  Dante,  with  its 
"  deathless  sorrow  and  pain";  of  Rousseau's,  with  his 
"  narrow  contracted  intensity,  bony  brows,  deep, 
straight-set  eyes."  Read,  too,  those  unsparing  charac- 
terizations of  his  contemporaries  ;  they  may  be  unfair, 
unjust,  untrue,  but  what  an  instinctive  and  lavish 
power  of  characterization  they  exhibit.  Often  care- 
lessly uttered,  and  soon  forgotten,  every  word  goes 
home  to  its  mark  with  the  merciless  power  and  pre- 
cision of  a  well-directed  javelin. 

And  finally,  Carlyle's  style  reflects  his  own  humor 
and  large-hearted  tenderness  ;  the  pathetic  gentleness 
of  a  strong,  stern  man  who  has  suffered.  It  were 
better  if  we  dwelt  less  on  Carlyle's  grumblings  and 
dyspepsia,  his  irritability,  his  half-humorous  vitupera- 
tions, and  thought  more  of  his  unobtrusive  acts  of 
kindness  and  of  the  compassion  that  was  in  him. 
Surely  it  is  no  common  pity  that  goes  out  to  us  in 
*  See  Sartor  Retartus.  bk.  i.  ch.  in. 


RECENT  WRITERS  425 

such  a  passage  as  this  :  "Poor  wandering,  wayward 
man  !  Art  thou  not  tried  and  beaten  with  stripes, 
even  as  I  am  ?  Even  whether  thou  bear  the  Royal 
mantle  or  the  Beggar's  gaberdine,  art  thou  not  so 
weary,  so  heavy  laden  :  and  thy  bed  of  Rest  is  but  a 
grave.  Oh,  my  Brother,  my  Brother  !  why  cannot  I 
shelter  thee  in  my  bosom,  and  wipe  away  all  tears 
from  thy  eyes  !  "  * 

Carlyle  has  helped  his  time  not  so  much  by  the 
promulgation  of  any  definite  system  of  philosophy, 
for  in  his  teachings  he  is  often  open  to  the  charge  of 
inconsistency  and  exaggeration,  but  by  the  fresh  in- 
spiration he  has  brought  to  its  higher  life.  He  is  a 
great  writer,  but  above  all  he  has  been  a  spiritual 
force,  quickening  and  invigorating  the  moral  and  re- 
ligious life.  His  work  is  to  be  associated  in  this  with 

that  of  JolmRuskin  (1819-1900),  another 

f  „,       ,  •    i       .    .  •]  ,.    John  Buskin. 

great  exponent  of  the  highest  ideas  of 

our  century.  In  Ruskin,  much  that  is  best  in  con- 
temporary life,  thought,  and  art  has  been  combined 
and  stamped  with  the  seal  of  his  own  aggressive  and 
dogmatic  personality.  On  the  right  hand  or  on  the 
left,  he  touches  or  supplements  one  or  another  of  our 
great  modern  guides,  rising  at  the  same  time  distinct 
from  them  all  in  his  own  work  and  character.  Like 
Keats  he  is  exquisitely  responsive  to  beauty,  and  has 
come  as  her  priest  and  her  revealer.  In  all  his  work 
as  art  critic,  in  his  lifelong  efforts  to  coax  or  scourge 
an  obdurate  British  public  to  a  more  general  and 
genuine  love  of  beautiful  things,  he  touches  at  one 
point  the  aesthetic  element  of  the  age.  Like  Words- 
*Sartor  Henartus.  bk.  ii.  ch.  ix. 


426         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

worth,  he  is  the  lover  and  interpreter  of  Nature, 
doing  for  her  in  his  prose  a  work  similar  to  that 
which  Wordsworth  and  the  other  great  nature-poets 
performed  in  verse.  And  like  Carlyle,  Ruskin  is  a 
preacher  and  prophet  to  his  generation  ;  not  rapt,  like 
Keats,  in  aesthetic  delights ;  not  wholly  withdrawn, 
as  Wordsworth,  into  the  contemplation  of  nature,  he 
throws  himself  into  the  noisy  strifes  and  dissensions 
of  his  time,  coming  among  the  crowds  of  the  market 
place  to  warn,  to  rebuke,  and  so  far  as  he  can,  to 
help  and  to  restrain. 

Nothing  but  a  loving  study  of  Ruskin's  work  can 
give  us  any  conception  of  the  wonder  and  loveliness 
of  his  prose-poetry  of  nature.  Here  the  exquisite 
sensibility  of  the  landscape  painter  to  color  and  form 
is  joined  to  the  poet's  gift  of  language,  his  guiding 
instinct  in  the  choice  of  words  ;  here,  too,  something 
of  the  scientist's  spirit  toward  the  world  of  matter 
is  transfused  and  uplifted  by  the  spiritual  apprehen- 
sion of  the  mystic.  Ruskin's  sense  of  color  is  as 
glorious  as  Shelley's,  his  word-pictures  often  as  lumi- 
nous and  as  ethereal  ;  indeed,  so  phenomenal  is  his 
descriptive  power  that  he  may  be  thought  of  as  hav- 
ing created  a  new  order  of  prose.  Take,  for  instance, 
his  description  of  the  Rhone,  and  notice  how  alive  it 
is  with  Ruskin's yjoy  in  color  and  power  ;  how  the 
wonderful  adjectives  reveal  his  delight  in  the  mighty 
river's  crystalline  purity  and  force.  "  For  all  other 
rivers  there  is  a  surface,  and  an  underneath,  and  a 
vaguely  displeasing  idea  of  the  bottom.  But  the 
Rhone  flows  like  one  lambent  jewel  ;  its  surface  is 
nowhere,  its  ethereal  self  is  everywhere,  the  iridescent 


RECENT  WRITERS  427 

rush  and  translucent  strength  of  it  blue  to  the  shore, 
and  radiant  to  the  depth.  Fifteen  feet  thick,  of  not 
flowing  but  flying  water  ;  not  water,  neither — melted 
glacier,  rather,  one  should  call  it  ;  the  force  of  the  ice 
is  with  it,  and  the  wreathing  of  the  clouds,  the  glad- 
ness of  the  sky,  and  the  continuance  of  time."  After 
a  few  sentences  we  come  upon  this  bit  of  pure 
poetry  :  "  There  were  pieces  of  wave  that  danced  all 
day  as  if  Perdita  were  looking  on  to  learn  ;  there 
were  little  streams  that  skipped  like  lambs  and  leaped 
like  chamois;  there  were  pools  that  shook  the  sun- 
shine all  through  them,  and  were  rippled  in  layers 
of  overlaid  ripples,  like  crystal  sand."  *  Ruskin's 
descriptions  of  nature  affect  us  not  merely  because  of 
their  magical  richness  and  flow  of  style  ;  not  because 
he  piles  up  in  them  a  shining  structure  of  light  and 
color,  but  because  to  him,  as  to  Wordsworth  and  Car- 
lyle,  the  shows  of  earth  and  sky  are  far  more  than  an 
empty  pageant  ;  because  he,  too,  "  sees  into  the  life 
of  things,"  f  and  reveals  it  to  us.  "  External  nature," 
he  declares,  "has  a  body  and  soul  like  a  man  ;  but 
her  soul  is  the  Deity."  J  And  this  doctrine  that  we 
are  to  regard  Nature  as  the  bodily  or  visible  revela- 
tion of  God,  is  not  with  Ruskin  a  mere  philosophic 
theory  ;  it  is  remarkable  for  its  vitality  and  definite- 
ness,  it  is  intimately  connected  with  his  principles  of 
aesthetics,  and  tiakes  beauty  illustrative  of  the  nature 
of  God.  He  believes  we  are  so  made  that,  when  we 
are  in  a  cultivated  and  healthy  state  of  mind,  we 

*  Prceterita,  vol.  i.  ch.  v. 

f  Wordsworth,  "  Lines  on  Revisiting  Tintern  Abbey." 

|  Modern  Painters.     . 


428        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

must  delight  in  beauty  and  be  thankful.  The  appre- 
hension of  true  beauty  is  therefore  a  test  of  our  near- 
ness to  Him  whom  it  expresses  and  reveals  ;  and 
taste,  the  faculty  by  which  this  beauty  is  discerned 
and  enjoyed,  is,  in  its  highest  form,  a  moral  or  ethical 
quality.  "  The  sensation  of  beauty  is  not  sensual  on 
the  one  hand,  nor  is  it  intellectual  on  the  other,  but  is 
dependent  on  a  pure,  right,  and  open  state  of  the 
heart,  both  for  its  truth  and  its  intensity."  Hence, 
in  those  attributes  or  qualities  which  enter  into  the 
beauty  of  Nature,  Ruskin  sees  the  types  or  symbols 
of  "  God's  nature  or  of  God's  laws  ";  in  the  infinity 
of  Nature,  Divine  incomprehensibility;  in  her  unity, 
Divine  comprehensiveness;  in  her  repose,  Divine 
permanence  ;  in  her  symmetry,  Divine  justice  ;  in  her 
purity,  Divine  energy  ;  "  in  her  moderation,  the  type 
of  government  by  law."  *  With  these  ideas  of  Nature 
and  Beauty,  Ruskin's  principles  of  art  are  naturally 
connected.  Just  as  the  perception  of  Beauty  is  a 
moral  attribute,  so  the  interpretation  of  Beauty, 
which  is  the  work  of  the  artist,  is  likewise  moral,  the 
act  of  a  pure  soul.  Perhaps  Ruskin  gives  the  clearest 
and  briefest  statement  of  this,  his  fundamental  art 
principle,  which  has  exposed  him  to  endless  ridicule 
and  misunderstanding,  in  a  paragraph  in  The  Queen 
of  the  Air  ;  "  Of  course  art-gift  and  amiability  of 
disposition  are  two  different  things,  for  a  good  man 
is  not  necessarily  a  painter,  nor  does  an  eye  for  color 
necessarily  imply  an  honest  mind.  But  great  art 
implies  the  union  of  both  powers  j  it  is  the  expres- 
sion, by  an  art-gift,  of  a  pure  soul.  If  the  gift  is  not 
*  Modern  Painters,  vol.  ii.  pp.  263-319, 


RECENT  WRITERS  429 

there,  we  can  have  no  art  at  all ;  and  if  the  soul — 
and  a  right  soul,  too — is  not  there,  the  art  is  bad, 
however  dexterous."  *  On  this  principle  of  the  foun- 
dation of  great  art  in  morality,  all  Ruskin's  work  as 
an  art  critic  is  built.  He  tells  us,  for  example,  that 
in  all  his  work  as  a  critic  of  archi lecture  his  aim  has 
been,  "  to  show  that  good  architecture  is  essentially 
religious — the  production  of  a  faithful  and  virtuous, 
not  of  an  infidel  and  corrupted  people. "f  These 
ideas  of  Ruskin  must  be  firmly  grasped,  because  they 
are  the  keynote,  not  only  to  his  work,  but  to  his  life 
also,  making  his  whole  career  consistent  and  intelligi- 
ble. He  is  first  of  all  a  great  moral,  or  rather  a  great 
Christian,  teacher.  English -born,  he  really  belongs 
by  descent  to  the  land  of  Knox  and  Carlyle,  and 
religious  earnestness,  the  passion  to  convert,  to  dog- 
matize, and  to  reform,  goes  even  deeper  with  him 
than  his  love  of  beauty.  Like  Carlyle  he  was  brought 
up  on  the  study  of  the  Bible,  reading  it  and  commit- 
ting long  passages  in  it  to  memory  in  daily  Bible  les- 
sons at  his  mother's  knee.  While  Keats  was  first 
of  all  the  dreamy  worshiper  of  absolute  beauty,  Rus- 
kin has  been  first  of  all  the  impulsive  and  passionate 
defender  of  convictions,  the  proselytizer  and  the 
knight-errant  of  unpopular  truths.  Shortly  after  his 
graduation  from  Oxford,  he  enters  the  lists  in  his 
Modern  Painters  (1st  vol.,  1843)  as  the  champion  of 
Turner,  whose  merit  as  one  of  the  greatest  landscape 

*  Queen  of  the  Air,  §  106  ;  cf.  Sesame  and  Lilies,  Of  Kingf 
Treasuries,  The  Mystery  of  Life,  and  its  Arts,  §§  105-106  ;  « 
also,  contra,  Symonds'  Renaissance  in  Italv. 

\  Crown  of  Wild  Olive,  Traffic. 


430        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

painters  of  all  time  had  then  received  but  scanty 
recognition.  This  work,  although  the  outcome  of  a 
desire  to  vindicate  the  genius  of  Turner,  and  the  cor- 
rectness of  his  principles  of  painting,  far  outgrew 
the  limits  of  its  original  design,  and  became,  as  it 
progressed,  a  setting-forth  in  prose  of  unexampled 
splendor  and  purity  of  Ruskin's  theory  of  art.  He 
contends  for  faithfulness  to  the  object  portrayed  ; 
he  would  have  the  painter  go  himself  to  Nature, 
"rejecting  nothing,  selecting  nothing,  and  scorning 
nothing.5"  This  last  sa3ring  is  worthy  of  our  especial 
regard,  because  it  shows  us  that  Ruskin's  teaching  is 
in  this  but  the  carrying  the  hatred  of  shams,  that 
love  of  truth  and  sincerity  which  Wordsworth  and 
Carlyle  exemplify,  into  the  sphere  of  art.  Ruskin's 
advice  may  bfe  set  side  by  side  with  Wordsworth's 
trust  that  he  has  avoided  false  descriptions  in  his 
poems,  because  he  has  "  at  all  times  endeavored  to 
look  steadily  at  the  subject."  To  "look  steadily  at 
the  subject " — this  chance  phrase  of  Wordsworth's 
defines  for  us  the  nature  of  that  change  which  had 
entered  into  the  art,  the  poetry,  the  political  thought, 
the  life  of  the  English  world. 

For  about  twenty  years  from  the  publication  of 
the  first  volume  of  Modern  Painters,  Ruskin  gave 
his  chief  energies  to  the  study  and  criticism  of  art. 
The  Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture  and  The  Stones  of 
Venice,  besides  the  concluding  volumes  of  the  Modern 
Painters,  are  among  the  works  of  this  time.  Since 
then,  that  is,  from  about  the  time  of  the  conclusion 
of  Modern  Painters  in  1860,  while  Ruskin's  deepest 
interests  and  purposes  have  remained  unchanged,  his 


BECENT  WRITERS  431 

best  effort  has  been  given  to  ethics  and  social  reform. 
In  his  loving  study  of  nature  and  art  and  beauty,  the 
cry  of  his  century  would  not  let  him  rest  ;  the 
thought  of  the  sordid  ugliness  of  the  world  about 
him,  of  the  sufferings,  the  problems  of  humanity, 
beset  him,  and  he  would  not  put  them  by.  "lam 
tormented,"  he  wrote,  "  between  the  longing  for 
rest  and  lovely  life,  and  the  sense  of  the  terrific  call  of 
human  crime  for  resistance  and  of  human  misery  for 
help."  To  respond  to  this  call  meant,  in  Ruskin's 
case,  to  leave  a  chosen  and  successful  sphere  of  work, 
and  enter  on  another  bristling  with  difficulties.  It 
meant  the  flinging  down  the  gauntlet  to  his  genera- 
tion, the  fierce  and  single-handed  onslaught  on  its 
deep-seated  evils,  its  cherished  prejudices,  the  very 
law  by  which  it  lived.  Yet  the  call  of  human  misery 
was  answered,  and  whatever  may  be  thought  of  the 
wisdom  or  practical  value  of  Ruskin's  economic  doc- 
trines, we  cannot  but  feel  a  glow  of  honest  admira- 
tion, such  as  we  feel  on  hearing  of  any  heroic  deed, 
on  seeing  his  ardor,  his  audacity,  his  purity  of  pur- 
pose, realizing  as  we  must  the  greatness  of  his  foe. 
Great  as  this  break  in  Ruskin's  life  seems,  from  art 
to  social  science,  in  reality  the  work  of  his  second 
period  is  the  consistent  and  logical  consequence  of 
his  first.  For  twenty  years  he  had  labored  for  the 
cause  of  pure  art,  and  the  conviction  had  but  grown 
stronger  in  him  that  pure  art  was  the  outcome  of 
a  just,  pure,  and  believing  community.  He  believed 
that  it  was  idle  to  preach  the  love  of  art  and  of 
beauty  to  a  nation  whose  standards  of  living  he  con- 
sidered vulgar  and  dishonest,  whose  real  worship 


432         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

was  the  worship  of  wealth  and  worldly  success,  or,  aa 
in  his  own  personification,  the  "Britannia  of  the  Mar- 
ket," the  "  Goddess  of  getting  on."  To  promote  the 
cause  of  art,  it  became  necessary  to  secure  by  the  puri- 
fication of  the  entire  social  system,  by  the  establish- 
ment of  nobler  and  truer  ideals  of  living,  that  moral 
soundness  out  of  which  pure  art  is  produced.  Ruskin 
was  thus  brought  by  a  different  route  to  face  those 
same  insistent  questions  which  had  enlisted  the 
efforts  of  Carlyle,  of  Maurice,  and  of  Kingsley  ;  those 
questions  which  yet  press  upon  us  unanswered,  de- 
manding the  service  of  the  best  intellect  of  our  time. 
The  industrial  changes  of  the  last  hundred  years 
had  brought  not  only  an  enormous  increase  of  wealth, 
but  had  given  new  chances  of  acquiring  it  to  people 
of  almost  every  social  class.  The  early  part  of  the 
eighteenth  century  had  witnessed  the  rise  of  the 
merchant  class  through  the  expansion  of  the  colonial 
trade  ;  the  latter  part  of  the  century  saw  the  rise 
of  the  manufacturing  class,  the  capitalists.  With 
golden  prizes  dangling  before  their  eyes,  the  energies 
of  the  great  mass  of  men  had  become  more  and 
more  exclusively  material  and  mercantile.  In  their 
haste  to  get  rich,  men  became  more  selfish  and  grasp- 
ing; they  were  impelled  to  forget  mercy  and  pity,  to 
forget  the  feeling  for  the  worth  of  individual  man- 
hood. The  love  of  money,  always  a  powerful  factor 
in  human  society,  became  more  and  more  the  great 
temptation  of  the  modern  world.  We  have  watched 
the  growth  of  the  new  love  of  nature ;  nature's 
fairest  scenes  were  scored  by  railroads  and  scorched 
and  blackened  by  the  soot  and  grime  of  factories. 


RECENT  WRITERS  433 

We  have  watched  the  growth  of  the  new  pity  for 
man  ;  in  the  early  part  of  our  century  men,  women, 
and  little  children  were  sacrificed  to  Mammon 
by  labor  in  mills  and  factories  so  prolonged  and 
severe  that  it  stunted  and  twisted  their  miserable 
bodies  and  darkened  their  miserable  souls.*  When 
Ruskin  began  his  work  as  an  economist  many 
of  these  evils  had  indeed  been  removed,  but  the 
master  passion  of  the  age  remained  unchanged.  This 
modern  spirit  has  been  assailed  by  Wordsworth, 
by  Matthew  Arnold,  by  Tennyson,  but  no  protest 
has  been  more  direct  and  momentous  than  that  of 
Ruskin.  To  discuss,  or  even  to  state,  his  economic 
theory,  set  forth  in  such  books  as  Unto  This  Last 
(1862),  the  Crown  of  Wild  Olive'  (1866),  Time  and 
Tide  (1868),  or  Fors  Clavigera  (begun  1871),  papers 
addressed  to  the  workingmen  of  England,  would 
take  us  beyond  our  proper  limit.  It  may  be  said 
briefly  that  it  is  essentially  an  attempt  to  apply 
the  ethical  teachings  of  Christianity  to  the  actual 
conduct  of  business  and  government.  The  competi- 
tion on  which  the  whole  structure  of  our  society  is 
founded  Ruskin  declares  to  be  "  a  law  of  death,"  to 
be  set  side  by  side  with  anarchy  in  its  destructive 
power.  The  true  foundations  of  a  state  are  not 
liberty,  but  obedience  ;  not  mutual  antagonism,  but 
mutual  help.f  Looked  at  purely  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  literary  critic,  the  books  in  which  these 
strange  doctrines  are  unfolded  and  elaborated  are 

*  See  Gibbins'  Indust.  History  of  England,  for  account  of 
passage  of  factory  laws. 
f  Modem  Paintert,  vol.  v.  p.  206. 


434        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

substantial  additions  to  English  prose.  In  the  Mod' 
ern  Painters,  and  other  early  books,  Ruskin  had 
proved  himself  master  of  a  style  unprecedented  in 
its  wealth  of  poetry  and  beauty,  but  in  these  later 
books  all  adornment  is  severely  subordinated  to  the 
strong  utterance  of  the  thought.  Ruskin  himself 
seems  to  have  been  conscious  of  i'hio  change.  "  Hap- 
pily," he  says,  in  a  lecture  delivered  in  1868,  "the 
power  of  using  such  pleasant  language — if  indeed  it 
ever  were  mine — is  passing  away  from  me  ,  and 
whatever  I  am  now  able  to  say  at  all,  I  find  my- 
self forced  to  say  with  great  plainness.  For  my 
thoughts  have  changed  also  as  my  words  have."* 
The  power  had  not,  indeed,  passed  away,  but  we  can 
perceive  that  the  growing  weight  of  thought  and 
earnestness  brought  greater  plainness  and  directness 
of  speech.  If  Ruskin's  later  style  has  lost  something 
in  pure  beauty,  it  has  gained  in  simplicity,  in  inten- 
sity, in  pure  power.  There  is,  as  in  the  Fors  Clavi- 
gera,  directness,  tenderness,  stixmg  outu^i'sts  of 
denunciation  and  scorn,  with  an  undertone  of  satiric 
humor  that  recalls  the  power,  but  not  the  malignity, 
of  Swift.f  Such  writers  as  Macaulay,  Carlyle,  and 
Ruskin  force  us  to  realize  the  greatness  of  our  mod- 
ern literature  in  the  sphere  of  prose.  Since  the  time 
of  Addison  English  prose  has  steadily  broadened  in 
range  and  increased  in  literary  importance.  When 
we  place  with  the  three  great  prose  writers  whose 

*  The  Mystery  of  Life,  and  Its  Arts. 

f  Of.  Ruskin's  recommendation  of  baked  clay  as  a  cheap 
diet,  in  Fora  Clavigera,  with  Swift's  "  Modest  Proposal  for  pre- 
venting the  Children  of  poor  People  from  being  a  Burden, " 


RECENT  WRITERS  435 

work  we  have  just  considered  the  masters  of  an 
earlier  generation — the  essayist,  Thomas  De  Quincey 
(1785-1859),  and  Walter  Savage  Landor  (1775- 
1864) — and  when  we  add  to  these  great  names  the 
men  who  succeeded  them — Froude,  J.  R.  Green, 
S.  R.  Gardner,  and  Kinglake,  in  history,  Matthew 
Arnold,  Walter  Pater,  and  others,  in  criticism — 
we  are  justified  in  saying  that  while  in  poetry  modern 
England  has  fallen  behind  the  greatest  achievements 
of  her  past,  in  the  art  of  prose  writing  she  has  cer- 
tainly equaled,  and  probably  surpassed,  the  produc- 
tion of  any  former  period. 

Matthew  Arnold  (1822-1888)  stands  out  from  this 
group  as  peculiarly  representative  of  the  middle 
years  of  the  century.  He  was  the  son  of 
Dr.  Thomas  Arnold,  the  great  head- 
master  of  Rugby,  whose  personal  force 
was  a  power  for  good  in  so  many  lives,  and  both 
his  father  and  grandfather  were  clergymen  of  the 
Church  of  England.  He  was  thus  rooted  and 
grounded  in  faith  both  by  inheritance  and  early  in- 
fluences. But  from  these  deeply  religious  surround- 
ings of  his  boyhood,  Arnold  was  plunged  at  Oxford 
into  the  midst  of  that  conflict  of  beliefs  and  no-beliefs, 
that  jar  of  doubt  and  speculation,  which  marked  a 
time  of  spiritual  crisis.  At  Oxford,  indeed,  thei'e 
were  "  great  voices  in  the  air,"  *  the  voice  of  New- 
man, pleading  for  a  solution  of  all  doubt  by  simple 
faith,  a  solution  "vhich  Arnold  after\\;nu  declared, 
to  speak  frankly,  was  "  impossible."  *  Arnold,  who 
*  Lecture  on  "Emerson,"  in  Ditcourv .  in  America* 


436       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

had  thus  abruptly  passed  from  the  shelter  of  his 
father's  influence  into  the  heat  of  the  conflict  of  his 
time,  seems  to  have  had  a  certain  power  to  sympa- 
thize alike  with  the  teachings  of  Rugby  and  the 
doubts  of  Oxford.  His  nature  had  a  positive  and 
emotional,  perhaps  even  a  religious  strain,  but  this 
ran  through  a  temperament  austerely  and  coldly 
intellectual.  Emotionally  he  apparently  felt  the 
need  of  faith,  but  his  intellect,  as  hard  and  keen  as 
highly  tempered  steel,  was  inexorable  in  its  demands 
for  exact  demonstration,  for  precision  and  lucidity  of 
thought.  A  great  part  of  Arnold's  poetry  is  the 
reflection  of  this  inward  conflict  between  these  incom- 
patible elements  of  his  nature.  He  looks  backward 
with  regret  and  longing,  while  he  suffers  himself  to 
be  borne  along  on  the  relentless  currents  of  his  time. 
In  his  prose  he  rebukes,  or  reusons,  or  criticises,  he 
builds  up  systems  of  conduct ;  but  there  remains 
within  him  a  void  which  neither  his  sovereign  remedy 
of  "  culture  "  nor  any  mere  ethical  system  can  fill. 
In  his  poetry  he  laments  the  loss  of  that  which  he 
discards,  and  half  shrinks  from  conclusions  which  he 
feels  constrained  to  accept.  Lingering  in  the  long- 
silent  courts  of  the  Carthusians,  that  speak  to  him  of 
the  mediaeval  centuries  of  simple  faith,  he  pictures  him« 

self  as 

"  Wandering  between  two  worlds,  one  dead, 
The  other  powerless  to  be  born, 
With  nowhere  yet  to  rest  my  head, 
Like  these,  on  earth  I  wait  forlorn  ; 
Their  faith,  my  tears,  the  world  deride — 
I  come  to  shed  them  at  their  side."  * 
*  Stanzas  from  The  Grande  Chartreuse 


RECENT  WRITERS  437 

Yet  we  must  not  think  of  Arnold's  poetry  as  a 
mere  wail  of  regret  or  outburst  of  despair.  On  the 
contrary  its  prevailing  note  is  self-reliance  ;  help 
must  come  from  the  soul  itself,  for 

"  The  fountains  of  our  life  are  all  -within." 

He  preaches  fortitude  and  courage  in  the  face  of  the 
mysterious  and  the  inevitable — a  courage  indeed  for- 
lorn and  pathetic  enough  in  the  eyes  of  some — and  he 
•constantly  takes  refuge  in  a  kind  of  stoical  resigna- 
tion. He  delights  in  showing  us  human  sorrow, 
only  to  withdraw  our  minds  from  it  by  leading  us  to 
contemplate  the  infinite  calm  of  nature,  beside  which 
our  transitory  woes  are  reduced  to  a  mere  fretful 
insignificance.  All  the  beautiful  poem  of  Tristram 
and  Iseult  is  built  up  on  the  skillful  alternation  of 
two  themes.  We  pass  from  the  feverish,  wasting, 
and  ephemeral  struggle  of  human  passion  and  desire, 
into  an  atmosphere  that  shames  its  heat  and  fume  by 
an  immemorial  coolness  and  repose  : 

"  We,  O  Nature,  depart, 
Thou  survives!  us  1  this, 
This,  I  know,  is  the  law. 
Thou  .  .  . 

Watchest  us,  Nature,  throughout 
Mild  and  inscrutably  calm."  * 

Arnold's  poetry  has  an  exquisitely  refined,  finished, 
and  delicate  beauty  ;  it  reveals  the  critic,  the  thinker, 
and,  above  all,  the  man  of  a  fine  but  exclusive  culture. 

*  "  The  Youth  of  Man." 


438       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Set  almost  wholly  in  a  single  key,  there  are  times 
when  we  weary  of  its  persistent  and  pathetic  minor. 
It  is  often  coldly  academic  rather  than  warm  with 
human  life  and  passion,  and  we  are  apt  to  miss  in  its 
thin,  intellectual  atmosphere,  just  that  large-souled 
and  broadly  human  sympathy  which  it  is  difficult  to 
associate  with  Arnold  himself.  At  times,  as  in  the 
fifth  of  the  series  entitled  Switzerland,  we  feel  under 
the  exquisite  beauty  of  the  verses  an  unwonted  throb 
of  passion,  and  then,  as  in  the  poem  last  mentioned, 
we  touch  the  highest  point  of  Arnold's  poetic  art. 

In  his  work  as  literary  critic,  Arnold  has  occupied 
a  high  place  among  the  foremost  prose  writers  of  the 
time.  His  style  is  in  marked  contrast  to 
the  dithyrambic  eloquence  of  Carlyle, 
or  to  Ruskin's  pure  and  radiant  coloring.  It  is  a 
quiet  style,  restrained,  clear,  discriminating,  incisive, 
with  little  glow  of  ardor  or  passion.  Notwithstand- 
ing its  scrupulous  assumption  of  urbanity,  it  is  often 
a  merciless  style,  indescribably  irritating  to  an  op- 
ponent by  its  undercurrent  of  sarcastic  humor,  and 
its  calm  air  of  assured  superiority.  By  his  insistence 
on  a  high  standard  of  technical  excellence,  and  by 
his  admirable  presentation  of  certain  principles  of 
literary  judgment,  Arnold  performed  a  great  work 
for  literature.  On  the  other  hand,  we  miss  here,  as 
in  his  poetry,  the  human  element,  the  comprehensive 
sympathy  that  we  recognize  in  the  criticism  of  Car- 
lyle. Yet  Carlyle  could  not  have  written  the  essay 
On  translating  Homer,  with  all  its  scholarly  dis- 
crimination in  style  and  technique,  any  more  than 
Arnold  could  have  produced  Carlyle's  large-hearted 


RECENT  WRITEBS  439 

essay  on  Burns.  Arnold's  varied  energy  and  highly 
trained  intelligence  have  been  felt  in  many  different 
fields.  He  has  won  a  peculiar  and  honorable  place 
in  the  poetry  of  the  century  ;  he  has  excelled  as  lit- 
erary critic,  he  has  labored  in  the  cause  of  education, 
and  finally,  in  his  Culture  and  Anarchy,  he  has  set 
forth  his  scheme  of  social  reform,  and  in  certain  later 
books  has  made  his  contribution  to  contemporary 
thought. 

In  no  direction  has  this  development  of  prose  been 
more  remarkable  than  in  that  of  the  novel,  the 
distinctive  literary  form  of  the  modern 
world.  Since  the  publication  of  Rich-  Jf  (hf™  eL 
ardson's  Pamela,  in  1740,  the  range  of 
the  novel  has  immensely  broadened,  and  its  impor- 
tance as  a  recognized  factor  in  our  intellectual  and 
social  life  has  surprisingly  increased.  William  God- 
win (1756-1836)  employed  the  novel  as  a  vehicle  of 
opinion.  His  Caleb  Williams  (1794)  was  one  of  the 
earliest  of  these  novels  with  a  purpose,  of  which 
there  are  so  many  examples  in  later  fiction.  Maria 
Edgeworth  (1767-1849),  the  author  of  Castle  Rack- 
rent,  The  Absentee,  Helen,  and  other  novels,  has  been 
called  the  creator  of  the  novel  of  national  manners. 
By  her  pictures  of  Irish  life  she  did  somewhat  the 
same  service  for  that  country  that  Scott,  on  a  larger 
scale,  was  soon  to  perform  for  his  beloved  Scotland  ; 
she  gave  it  a  place  in  literature.  Shortly  before 
Scott  began  to  create  the  historical  novel,  Jane 
Austen  (1775-1817)  began  her  finished  and  exquisite 
pictures  of  the  daily  domestic  life  of  middle-class 
England,  in  Sense  and  Sensibility  (1811).  In  these 


440       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

novels  the  ordinary  aspects  of  life  are  depicted  with 
the  minuteness  and  fidelity  of  the  miniature  painter, 
yet  their  charming  and  unfailing  art  saves  the  ordi- 
nary from  becoming  tiresome  or  commonplace.  Miiss 
Austen  has  found  worthy  successors,  but  no  supe- 
rior, in  her  chosen  field.  The  Cranford  of  Eliza- 
beth Gaskell  (1810-1866)  is  a  masterly  study  of  the 
little  world  of  English  provincial  life,  as  are  the 
Chronicles  of  Carlingford  of  Margaret  Oliphant 
(1820).  Mrs.  Gaskell  is  further  remembered  for 
work  of  a  more  tragic  and  powerful  order  than  the 
quaint  and  pathetic  humor  of  Cranford.  Her  first 
novel,  Mary  Barton  (1848),  laid  bare  before  the 
reading  world  the  obscure  life  and  struggles  of  the 
poor  who  toiled  in  the  great  manufactories  of  Man- 
chester. Perhaps  the  subject  is  too  monotonous  and 
too  mournful  for  the  highest  art,  but  the  book  bears 
on  every  page  the  evidence  of  insight  and  of  truth. 

The  Alton  Locke,  Tailor  and  Poet,  of  Charles 
Kingsley  (1849),  the  story  of  a  London  apprentice 
who  becomes  involved  in  the  Chartist  agitations, 
shows  the  same  sympathetic  interest  in  the  heavy 
burdens  of  the  poor,  and  in  that  unhappy  antagonism 
between  employer  and  employed  which  remains  one 
of  the  unsettled  problems  of  our  time.  This  widen- 
ing of  the  sphere  of  the  novel  to  include  the  trials 
or  tragedies  of  the  humblest  phases  of  life  is  a 
further  evidence  of  that  broadening  sympathy  with 
the  race  of  man,  which  we  have  seen  grow  stronger 
in  the  poetry  of  the  preceding  century  as  ideas  of 
democracy  gained  in  power. 

But  the  life  of  the  outcast  and  the  poor  has  found 


BECENT  WRITEK8  44] 

its  most  famous  if  not  its  most  trathful  chronicler  in 
Charles  Dickens  (1812-1870),  one  of  the 

greatest  novelists  of  the  epoch.     Dickens  Charles 

Dickens, 
was  the  second  of  eight  children.     His 

earliest  associations  were  with  the  humbler  and  harsher 
side  of  life  in  a  metropolis,  as  his  father,  John  Dickens, 
(a  clerk  in  the  Navy  Pay-office,  was  transferred  from 
Portsmouth  to  London  in  1814.  The  knowledge  thus 
hardly  gained  through  early  struggles  and  privations, 
became  a  storehouse  from  which  Dickens  drew  freely 
in  his  later  work.  The  Marshalsea  Prison,  where 
John  Dickens  was  confined  for  debt,  is  described  in 
Little  Dorrit  /  in  David  Copperfield,  the  most  auto- 
biographical of  the  novels,  David's  experiences  as  a 
wrine  merchant's  apprentice  may  have  been  suggested 
by  Warren's  blacking  factory,  where  Dickens 
worked  as  a  boy ;  while  his  youthful  struggles  with 
shorthand  and  reporting  are  reflected  in  Copperfield's 
later  history.  Remembering  the  great  novelist's 
early  experience,  it  seems  but  natural  that  he  should 
have  chosen  to  let  in  the  sun  and  air  on  some  of  the 
shabbier  and  darker  phases  of  existence  ;  depicting 
types  of  many  social  gradations  ;  obscure  respecta- 
bility, the  vagrants  and  adventurers  in  the  outer 
circles  of  society,  down,  as  in  Oliver  Twist  (1837- 
1838),  to  the  pick-pocket  and  the  murderer.  There 
is  Jo,  the  London  street  waif  of  Bleak  House 
(1852-1853),  "allers  a-movin'on";  Jingle,  the  gay 
and  voluble  impostor  of  Pickicick  (1836-1837);  and 
that  questionable  fraternity,  the  Birds  of  Prey,  that 
flit  about  the  dark  places  of  the  Thames  in  Our 
Mutual  Friend  { 1864-1 865).  Through  this  portrayal 


442       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

of  the  under  strata  of  society  there  runs  a  strong, 
perhaps  a  sometimes  too  apparent  moral  purpose ; 
yet  take  us  where  he  will,  Dickens'  art  is  always 
pure,  sound,  and  wholesome. 

It  is  as  a  humorist  that  Dickens  is  at  his  best. 
There  is  a  whimsical  and  ludicrous  extravagance  in 
his  humor,  an  irresistible  ingenuity  in  the  ridiculous, 
peculiar  to  him  alone.  From  the  time  when  a 
delighted  people  waited  in  rapturous  impatience  for 
the  forthcoming  number  of  Pickwick,  to  the  publica- 
tion of  the  unfinished  Edwin  Drood  (1870),  nineteenth 
century  England  laid  aside  her  weariness  and  her 
problems  to  join  in  Dickens'  overflowing,  infectious 
laughter.  When  we  are  ungrateful  enough  to  be  criti- 
cal of  one  who  has  rested  so  many  by  his  genial  and 
kindly  fun,  we  must  admit  that  Dickens  was  neither  a 
profound  nor  truthful  interpreter  of  life  and  charac- 
ter. His  is  for  the  most  part  a  world  of  caricature, 
peopled  not  with  real  living  persons,  but  with  eccen- 
tricities and  oddities,  skillfully  made  to  seem  like 
flesh  and  blood.  We  know  them  from  some  peculiar- 
ity of  speech  or  manner,  some  oft-repeated  phrase  ; 
they  are  painted  from  without ;  we  are  rarely  en- 
abled to  get  inside  of  their  lives  and  look  out  at 
the  world  through  their  eyes.  The  result  is  often 
but  a  clever  and  amusing  burlesque  of  life,  not 
life  itself.  It  may  also  be  admitted  that  we  feel 
at  times,  in  Dickens,  the  absence  of  that  atmos- 
phere of  refinement  and  cultivation  which  is  an 
unobtrusive  but  inseparable  part  of  the  art  of  Thack- 
eray. Without  detracting  from  some  famous  and 
beautiful  scenes,  Dickens'  pathos  is  often  forced  and 


BECKNT  WBITEBS  443 

premeditated,  his  sentiment  shallow,  while  there  are 
heights  from  which  he  is  manifestly  shut  out.  When 
he  attempts  to  draw  a  gentleman  or  an  average 
mortal  distinguished  by  no  special  absurdities,  the 
result  is  apt  to  be  singularly  insipid  and  lifeless. 
Notwithstanding  these  shortcomings,  Dickens  has 
won  notable  successes  outside  the  field  of  pure  humor. 
His  Tale  of  Two  Cities  (1859)  is  a  powerful  story, 
quite  different  from  his  usual  manner,  and  many 
scenes  throughout  his  other  books,  as  the  famous 
description  of  the  storm  in  David  Copperfield,  are 
triumphs  of  tragic  power. 

William  Makepeace  Thackeray  (1811-1863)  is  the 
keen  but  kindly  satirist  of  that  surface  world  of 
frivolity  and  fashion  into  which  the  art  .__.... 
of  Dickens  so  seldom  penetrates.  Thack-  Makepeace 
eray  was  born  at  Calcutta,  but  was  early  Thackeray- 
sent  to  England  for  his  education.  He  had  some- 
thing of  that  regular  training  which  Dickens  lacked, 
going  to  Cambridge  from  the  Charter-house  School 
in  London.  He  left  college,  however,  shortly  after 
entering,  to  study  art  on  the  Continent,  and  finally, 
losing  his  money,  he  returned  to  England,  and  about 
1837  drifted  into  literature.  After  writing  much 
for  periodicals,  he  made  his  first  great  success  in 
Vanity  Fair  (1847-1848).  In  this  book,  under  its 
satiric  and  humorous  delineation  of  a  world  of  hol- 
lowness  and  pretense,  runs  the  strong  current  of  a 
deep  and  serious  purpose.  "  Such  people  there  are," 
Thackeray  writes,  stepping  "down  from  the  plat- 
form," like  his  master,  Fielding,  to  speak  in  his  own 
person — "  such  people  there  are  living  and  flourishing 


444        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

in  the  world — Faithless,  Hopeless,  Charityless  ;  let 
us  have  at  them,  dear  friends,  with  might  and  main. 
Some  there  are,  and  very  successful,  too,  mere  quacks 
and  fools  ;  and  it  was  to  combat  and  expose  such  as 
these,  no  doubt,  that  laughter  was  made.*  " 

The  passage  is  better  than  any  outside  comment  on 
the  spirit  of  Thackeray's  work  ;  only  the  shallow  and 
undiscriminating  reader  fails  to  see  that  Thackeray's 
seriousness  is  deeper  and  more  vital  than  his  cynicism  ; 
that  thougli  the  smile  of  the  man  of  the  world  be  on 
his  lips,  few  hearts  are  more  gentle,  more  compassion- 
ate, more  tender  ;  that  though  he  is  quick  to  scorn, 
few  eyes  have  looked  out  on  this  unintelligible  world 
through  more  kindly  or  more  honest  tears.  Satirist 
as  he  is,  he  kneels  with  the  genuine  and  whole-souled 
devotion  of  Chaucer,  of  Shakespeare,  and  of  Milton, 
before  the  simple  might  of  innocence  and  of  good- 
ness. In  the  midst  of  this  world  of  Vanity  Fair,  with 
its  pettiness,  its  knavery,  and  its  foolishness,  he  places 
the  unspoiled  Amelia  and  the  honest  and  faithful 
Major  Dobbin.  If  in  Pendennis  we  have  the  world 
as  it  looks  to  the  idlers  in  the  Major's  club  windows, 
we  have  also  Laura,  and  "Pen's"  confiding  mother, 
apart  from  it,  and  unspotted  by  its  taint.  But  more 
beautiful  than  all  other  creations  of  Thackeray's 
reverent  and  loving  nature  is  the  immortal  presence 
of  Colonel  Newcome,  the  man  whose  memory  we 
hold  sacred  as  that  of  one  we  have  loved — the  strong, 
humble,  simple-minded  gentleman,  the  grizzled 
soldier  with  the  heart  of  a  little  child.  In  such 
characters  Thackeray,  too,  preaches  to  us,  in  his 
*  Vanity  Fair,  vol.  i.  chap,  viii. 


WILLIAM     MAKEPEACE     THACKERAY 


RECENT  WRITERS  445 

own  fashion,  the  old  lesson  dear  to  lofty  souls, 
that 

"  Virtue  may  be  assail^*!,  but  TIPVPT  hurt : 
Surprised  by  unjust  force,  but  not  enthralled."* 

So  he  echoes  Scott's  dying  injunction  to  Lockhart : 
"Be  a  good  man,  my  dear,"  by  showing  us,  in  the 
corruption  of  much  that  is  mean  and  vile,  that  beauty 
of  holiness  which  can 

"  redeem  nature  from  the  general  curse," 

that  fair  flower  of  simple  goodness  which,  blossoming 
in  tangled  and  thorny  ways,  sweetens  for  us  the 
noisome  places  of  the  earth. 

In  addition  to  his  work  as  painter  of  contemporary 
manners,  Thackeray  has  enriched  the  literature  by 
two  remarkable  historical  novels,  Henry  Esmond 
(1852),  and  its  sequel,  Tlie  Virginians  (1857-1859). 
In  the  first  of  these  we  have  the  fruits  of  Thackeray's 
careful  and  loving  study  of  eighteenth  century  Eng- 
land, a  period  with  which  he  was  especially  identified, 
and  which  he  had  treated  critically  with  extraordinary 
charm  and  sympathy  in  his  Lectures  on  the  English 
Humorists  (published  1853).  Esmond  is  one  of  the 
greatest,  possibly  the  greatest  historical  novel  in 
English  fiction.  The  story  is  supposed  to  be  told  by 
Esmond  himself,  and  the  book  seems  less  that  of  a 
modern  writing  about  the  past  than  the  contem- 
porary record  of  the  past  itself.  Nothing  is  more 
wonderful  in  it  than  the  art  with  which  Thackeray 
abandons  his  usual  manner  to  identify  himself  with 

*  Milton's  Comut,  p  177,  supra. 


446        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LTTEBATUEE 

the  narrator  he  has  created.  Yet  in  this,  perhaps, 
we  should  rather  see  the  real  tender-hearted  Thack- 
eray, his  thin  veil  of  cynicism  thrown  aside. 

Thackeray's  style  is  exceptionally  finished  and 
charming ;  light,  graceful,  and  incisive,  it  places 
him  among  the  greatest  prose  masters  of  English 
fiction. 

So  many  able  and  distinguished  writers  of  the  Vic- 
torian period  have  chosen  th«  novel  as  their  favorite 
or  exclusive  form  of  literary  expression,  and  so 
familiar  is  their  work,  that  even  a  mere  enumeration 
of  them  is  here  both  impossible  and  unnecessary. 
Their  works,  with  that  of  countless  others  whose 
books  represent  every  shade  of  merit  or  demerit,  and 
reproduce  almost  every  ripple  of  thought  or  discus- 
sion, are  among  the  best-known  influences  of  our 
modern  life. 

Among  the  many  women  who  have  gained  dis- 
tinction as  writers  of  fiction  since  the  appearance  of 
Miss  Burney's  Evelina  (1778),  one  at  least  cannot  be 
passed  over,  even  in  the  briefest  survey. 

Mary  Ann,  or  Marian  Evans  (George  Eliot)  was 
born  November  22,  1819,  at  South  Farm,  Arbury,  a 
"  small,  low-roofed  farmhouse  "  in  War 
wickshire.  Her  father,  George  Evans, 
was  agent  to  Sir  Roger  Newdigate,  of  Arbury  Hall, 
within  the  boundaries  of  whose  estate  the  farm  lay. 
Arbury  Hall  is  in  the  northeastern  corner  of  the 
county,  some  thirty  miles  from  Stratford.  It  lies  in 
the  same  rich  and  well-watered  region  that  nourished 
the  youth  of  Shakespeare  ;  a  sleepy,  abundant  land, 
prosperous,  and  steeped  in  drowsy  centuries  of  qnipt. 


RECENT  WRITERS  447 

In  some  part  of  this  rich  Midland  district,  at  Griff 
House,  near  Nuneaton,  at  school  in  Coventry,  or  at 
Foleshill  on  its  outskirts,  the  first  thirty-two  years  of 
George  Eliot's  life  were  passed.  She  was  identified 
with  its  local  interests  by  birth  and  by  daily  contact ; 
her  earliest  and  tenderest  recollections  clustered  round 
it,  and  the  grace  of  its  liberal  beauty,  sanctified  by 
memory,  remained  with  her  until  the  end.  Her  early 
surroundings,  she  tells  us, 

"  Were  but  my  growing  self,  are  part  of  me  ; 
My  present  Past,  my  root  of  piety."  * 

This  English  provincial  life,  thus  flowing  in  the  very 
currents  of  her  blood,  became  the  living  material  of 
her  art.  She  was  at  once  of  it,  and,  by  the  great- 
ness of  her  genius,  apart  from  it ;  able  both  to 
depict  it  from  within,  and  to  feel  it  from  without 
Birth  and  association  thus  qualified  her  to  become  its 
great  painter,  as  emphatically  as  Dickens  was  the 
great  painter  of  the  slums  and  of  the  poor,  or  Thack- 
eray of  the  London  clubs  and  drawing  rooms.  The 
rural  or  provincial  background  which  is  the  setting 
of  so  many  of  her  stories  is  painted  from  reality,  and 
many  of  her  best  known  characters  were  drawn  from 
or  suggested  by  the  Warwickshire  people  she  had 
early  known  and  loved. 

Ordinary  and  uneventful  as  these  early  years  in 
Warwickshire  may  seem  at  first,  careful  study  will 
but  strengthen  our  conviction  of  their  importance  in 
determining  the  broad  character  of  her  art.  In  a 
poem  full  of  tender  memories,  in  which  she  describes 

*  Poems.  Brother  and  Sitter. 


448     INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

her  early  rambles  with  her  brother,  she  lets  us  share 
the  secrets  of  her  childhood. 

"  He  was  the  elder,  and  a  little  man 
Of  forty  inches,  bound  to  show  no  dread, 
And  I  the  girl  that  puppy-like  now  ran. 
Now  lagged  behind  my  brother's  larger  tread. 

If  he  said  '  Hush  I '  I  tried  to  hold  my  breath  ; 
Wherever  he  said  '  Come,'  I  stepped  in  faith."* 

In  The  Mitt  on  the  Floss,  in  Maggie  Tulliver's  dim 
longings  and  spiritual  growing-pains,  we  gain  an 
insight  into  those  years  in  which,  with  much  stress 
and  hunger  of  the  spirit,  the  childish  horizon  widened. 
At  sixteen  George  Eliot  lost  her  mother  and  left 
school  to  keep  house  for  her  father,  gaining  some 
experience  of  farm-life  which  she  afterward  used  in 
her  description  of  the  Poyser  household  in  Adam 
Bede  (1859).  In  1841  she  became  intimate  with  a 
family  named  Bray,  wealthy  people  who  lived  in 
the  vicinity  of  Coventry,  and  under  their  influence 
abandoned  forever  her  faith  in  Christianity  as  a 
divine  revelation,  seeing  in  it  only  a  human  creation 
of  man's  hopes  and  needs.  Her  nature,  though  prone 
to  speculation,  was  by  no  means  wanting  in  religious 
feeling,  and  the  comparative  suddenness  of  her  loss 
of  faith  may  impress  us  as  unaccountable.  In  think- 
ing of  this  we  should  remember  her  peculiar  dis- 
position. With  all  her  masculine  strength  and 
activity  of  intellect,  she  was  singularly  susceptible 
to  influence,  and  dependent  to  an  unusual  degree 
upon  the  help  and  encouragement  of  others.  Strength 
*  Brother  and  Sister. 


RECENT  WRITERS  449 

of  mind  does  not  necessarily  imply  strength  of  char- 
acter, although  we  are  too  apt  to  confuse  the  two, 
and  this  fact  will  help  us  to  understand  more  than 
one  incident  in  George  Eliot's  life.  From  the  first 
her  tastes  had  been  distinctly  studious  and  scholarly, 
and  in  1846  she  began  her  literary  career  by  translat- 
ing a  German  work  in  harmony  with  the  skeptical 
ideas  she  had  adopted.  Her  home  was  broken  up  by 
her  father's  death  in  1849,  and  two  years  later,  after 
a  short  Continental  tour,  she  settled  in  London  as 
assistant  editor  of  T7ie  Westminster  .Revieio,  to  which 
she  had  already  contributed,  Her  Warwickshire  life 
was  over,  and,  like  Shakespeare  when  he  first  turned 
his  face  toward  London,  she  stood  at  the  entrance  to 
a  new  world.  The  Westminster  Jteview  numbered 
Herbert  Spencer,  James  and  Harriet  Martineau,  and 
many  other  distinguished  writers  among  its  contribu- 
tors, and  George  Eliot's  connection  with  it  naturally 
gave  her  a  place  in  literary  circles. 

Among  others  she  met  Mr.  George  Henry  Lewes, 
a  discursive,  brilliant,  but  somewhat  erratic  writer, 
who  combined  keen  literary  sympathies  with  a  dis- 
tinctly scientific  and  philosophical  bent.  A  deep 
attachment  grew  up  between  them,  but  marriage 
was  impossible,  as  Mr.  Lewes'  wife,  from  whom  he 
was  separated,  was  still  alive,  and  through  a  techni- 
cality of  the  law  a  divorce  could  not  be  obtained. 
Believing  the  law  unjust,  George  Eliot  took  a  step 
which,  even  in  its  purely  social  or  legal  aspects,  must 
be  looked  upon  as  a  serious  error.  She  entered  upon 
a  lifelong  union  with  Mr.  Lewes,  which,  it  must  be 
remembered,  was  in  her  eyes  a  true  marriage.  It  is 


450          INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

no  justification  of  this  most  unfortunate  union  that 
it  proved  a  "  marriage  of  true  minds,"  most  impor- 
tant in  its  effects  upon  George  Eliot's  literaiy  career. 
It  was  at  the  suggestion  of  Mr.  Lewes  that  George 
Eliot  turned  from  her  distinctly  scholarly  and  criti- 
cal labors  as  essayist  and  translator  to  begin  that 
work  in  fiction  on  which  her  fame  mainly  rests. 
Heretofore  her  writing  had  represented  chiefly  the 
scholarly  side  of  her  mind  ;  it  had  been  the  outcome 
of  her  studies  of  books.  Now,  under  Mr.  Lewes'  en- 
couragement, the  other  side  of  her  genius  declared 
itself  by  the  publication  in  BlacJcwoocTs  of  her  first 
story,  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life;  The  Sad  Fortunes  of 
the  Rev.  Amos  Barton  (January,  1857).  This  sud- 
den transference  of  energy  into  a  totally  new  chan- 
nel is  one  of  the  most  surprising  incidents  of  our 
literary  history.  From  one  aspect  it  is  by  no  meana 
without  parallel :  Scott  abandoned  poetry  for  ro- 
mance writing ;  De  Foe  at  sixty  turned  from  jour- 
nalism and  pamphleteering  and  produced  Robinson 
Crusoe.  But  the  singularity  in  George  Eliot's  case 
is  not  that  at  thirty-eight  she  discovered  within  her 
a  great  gift  that  she  had  never  dreamed  herself  pos- 
sessed of,  it  is  that  it  was  left  for  another  to  make 
this  discovery  for  her  ;  that  this  critical  change  in 
her  career  was  due  not  to  an  impulse  from  within, 
but  to  an  influence  from  without.  Thus  again,  as  at 
the  time  of  her  contact  with  the  Brays,  we  are  im- 
pressed by  her  extreme  dependence  on  others. 
From  this  "new  era"  in  her  life,  as  George  Eliot 
called  it,  we  are  chiefly  occupied  in  noticing  the 
development  of  this  str*neely  discovered  gift,  and  in 


RECENT  WRITERS  451 

marking  the  establishment  and  growth  of  her  fame. 
Adam  JBede,  her  first  long  story,  and  one  of  the  most 
powerful  and  spontaneous  of  her  books,  appeared  in 
1859,  and  it  was  felt  "that  a  new  power  had  arisen 
in  English  letters."  Adam  Bede  was  followed  by 
masterpiece  after  masterpiece  at  intervals  of  one, 
two,  or  three  years  ;  thoughtful  books  of  substantial 
workmanship,  not  fluently  written,  with  Scott's  easy 
joy  in  power,  but  with  unspeakable  effort,  self-dis- 
cipline, and  toil.  The  Spanish  Gypsy  (1868),  a 
dramatic  poem,  marked  a  new  literary  departure,  but 
George  Eliot's  poetry,  though  thoughtful  and  me- 
chanically correct,  is  distinctly  inferior  to  her  prose. 
Mr.  Lewes  died  in  1878,  and  barely  two  years  later 
the  world  was  electrified  by  the  news  of  George 
Eliot's  marriage  to  a  young  London  banker,  Mr. 
John  Walter  Cross.  At  this  time  George  Eliot  was 
slightly  over  sixty  and  Mr.  Cross  some  twenty  years 
her  junior.  When  the  intensity  of  her  devotion  to 
Mr.  Lewes  is  taken  into  account  we  are  inclined  to 
regard  this  second  marriage  as  but  another  proof 
that  George  Eliot's  nature  was  dependent  rather  than 
self-reliant.  "In  her  moial  development,"  writes 
Mi\  Cross,  "  she  showed  from  her  earliest  years  the 
trait  that  was  most  marked  in  her  through  life, 
namely,  the  absolute  need  of  some  one  person  who 
should  be  all  in  all  to  her,  and  to  whom  she  should 
be  all  in  all."  In  the  fall  of  1880  her  health  was 
failing,  and  in  December  of  that  year  she  died  sud- 
denly after  a  brief  illness. 

George  Eliot  stands  easily   in   the  front  rank  of 
English  novelists  ;  she  must,  moreover,  be  recognized 


452        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

as  one  of  the  most  influential  and  distinctly  represen- 
tative  writers  of  her  time,     Whatever 

asCnovelist°  yiews  we  Ina7  hold  of  the  true  scope 
and  purpose  of  fiction  as  an  art,  we  can 
hardly  escape  assigning  to  George  Eliot's  work  a 
position  of  the  highest  significance  and  importance 
in  the  history  of  nineteenth  century  thought.  The 
art  of  Thackeray  may  seem  to  us  finer  and  less 
labored  ;  we  may  miss  in  such  a  novel  as  Daniel 
Deronda  that  great  master's  half  playful  cynicism 
and  exquisite  lightness  of  touch.  Scott's  spontaneous, 
instinctive  power  of  telling  a  story  for  the  story's 
sake  may  appeal  to  us  more  strongly,  the  romantic 
twilight,  the  old-world  enchantment  of  the  Waverley 
Novels  may  bring  us  more  of  that  blessed  rest  from 
the  burdens  of  the  day  which  we  may  consider  it  the 
true  purpose  of  the  novel  to  bestow.  Yet  whatever 
we  may  find  or  miss  in  George  Eliot's  novels,  we 
must  admit  that  they  reveal  to  us  a  profound  and 
tragically  serious  student  of  life.  Employing  a  lit- 
erary form  which,  in  less  self-conscious  and  exacting 
days,  was  generally  looked  upon  as  a  means  of  relax- 
ation,  George  Eliot's  place  is  rather  with  Ruskin, 
Darwin,  Arnold,  Browning,  or  Herbert  Spencer,  with 
"  the  teachers  and  seekers  after  light,"  the  signs  of 
trouble  often  written  on  their  foreheads — than  with 
Scott  or  Jane  Austen,  with  Dickens  or  Wilkie  Col- 
lins. Yet  George  Eliot  is  more  than  a  thinker, 
precisely  as  Browning  is  more  than  a  thinker ; 
both  are  artists,  and  give  us,  not  abstract  doctrines, 
but  a  philosophy  clothed  in  the  language  and  em- 
bodied in  the  living  forms  of  art.  Both  feel  the 


RECENT  WRITERS  453 

burdens  and  obligations  laid  upon  those  who  in  oui 
modern  time  think  deeply  or  feel  acutely,  and  both, 
in  harmony  with  its  analytic  and  questioning  spirit, 
are  constrained  not  only  to  depict  but  to  moralize,  to 
search  into  the  motives  and  the  consequences  of  con- 
duct, to  analyze  the  subtle  constitution  of  the  soul, 
But  in  this  analysis  George  Eliot  is  an  artist  because 
she  studies  and  interprets  the  soul  not  merely  with 
her  intellect  but  by  her  true  human  sympathy,  by 
the  intensity  of  her  imaginative  understanding.  A 
scholastic  flavor  hangs  about  some  of  our  modern 
guides,  as  for  instance  Matthew  Arnold,  which  pro- 
claims them  as  primarily  readers  of  books.  George 
Eliot  was  a  scholar,  but  she  was  still  more  emphat- 
ically a  student  of  life.  It  is  life  itself  as  she  has 
seen  it  and  known  it,  in  the  farmhouse  or  the  field, 
life  in  the  formative  experiences  of  her  own  soul, 
which  affords  her  the  material  for  her  thought.  "  I 
have  always  thought,"  she  writes,  "  that  the  most 
fortunate  Britons  are  those  whose  experience  has 
given  them  a  practical  share  in  many  aspects  of  the 
national  lot;  who  have  lived  among  the  mixed  com- 
monalty, roughing  it  with  them  under  difficulties, 
knowing  how  their  food  tastes  to  them,  and  getting 
acquainted  with  their  notions  and  motives,  not  by 
inference,  from  traditional  types  in  literature,  or 
from  philosophic  theories,  but  from  daily  fellowship 
and  observation."  George  Eliot  herself  was  such  a 
"  fortunate  Briton,"  and  her  work,  like  that  of  Shake- 
speare, of  Burns,  of  Carlyle,  and  of  Dickens,  rests 
securely  on  her  sympathetic  understanding  of  the 
daily  life  of  man.  The  truth  of  her  insight  into  trip 


454        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

most  ordinary,  and  as  we  might  consider  them,  com- 
monplace lives,  her  tenderness  for  them,  her  percep« 
tion  of  the  pathos  and  the  wonder  of  their  narrow 
world,  is  one  of  the  finest  traits  in  her  character  and 
her  art.  In  her  earliest  story,  after  telling  us  that 
the  Rev.  Amos  Barton,  whose  fortunes  she  is  describ- 
ing, was  "palpably  and  unmistakably  commonplace," 
she  goes  on  to  speak  of  commonplace  people  in 
words  which  may  be  taken  as  a  text  of  all  her 
work.  The  large  majority  of  our  fellow-creatures, 
she  declares,  are  "  simply  men  of  complexions 
more  or  less  muddy,  whose  conversation  is  more  or 
less  bald  and  disjointed.  Yet  these  commonplace 
people — many  of  them — bear  a  conscience,  and  have 
felt  the  sublime  prompting  to  do  the  painful  right  ; 
they  have  their  unspoken  sorrows  and  their  sacred 
joys  ;  their  hearts  have  perhaps  gone  out  toward 
their  first-born,  and  they  have  mourned  over  the  irre- 
claimable dead.  Nay,  is  there  not  a  pathos  in  their 
very  insignificance — in  our  comparison  of  their  dim 
and  narrow  existence  with  the  glorious  possibilities 
of  that  human  nature  which  they  share  ?"  * 

Here  is  that  democratic  spirit  of  human  brother- 
hood of  which  we  have  so  often  spoken,  uttering 
itself  again  through  literature.  Reflecting  on  these 
words  we  measure  again  the  distance  that  the  Eng- 
land of  Victoria  has  traveled  from  the  England  of 
Pope.  It  is  not  enough  for  us  to  appreciate  that 
George  Eliot  shows  us  ordinary  people  under  ordi- 
nary conditions ;  others  have  done  this.  Her  dis- 
tinction is  that  she  feels  and  makes  us  feel  a  some- 
*  The  Sad  Fortunes  of  the  Rev.  Amos  Barton,  chap.  v. 


RECENT  WRITERS  455 

thing  in  ordinary  lives  which  before  was  not  apparent. 
Perhaps  when  lie  looks  into  his  own  soul  no  man 
truly  deems  himself  commonplace.  George  Eliot 
gives  us  such  a  glimpse  into  the  souls  of  others. 
Hence  her  characters  are  substantial  living  people, 
filling  us  with  an  intense  sense  of  reality.  Looking 
into  our  own  lives  we  know  that  their  secret  vicis- 
situdes are  true.  Such  art  is  comparatively  inde- 
pendent of  plot  and  incident.  In  order  to  interest 
us  in  her  characters  George  Eliot  is  not  forced,  as 
Dickens  was,  to  depend  upon  outward  eccentricities 
or  cheat  us  into  a  conviction  of  reality  by  the  minute 
accuracy  of  the  stage  setting.  In  Tom  and  Maggie 
Tuiliver,  in  Dorothea  Brooke,  in  Tito  Melema,  or  in 
Gwendolen  Harleth,  we  enter  into  and  identify  our- 
selves with  the  inner  experience  of  a  human  soul. 
These  and  the  other  great  creations  of  George  Eliot's 
genius  are  not  set  characters  ;  like  ourselves  they  are 
subject  to  change,  acted  upon  by  others,  acting  on 
others  in  their  turn  ;  molded  by  the  daily  pressure 
of  things  within  and  things  without.  We  are  made 
to  understand  the  growth  or  the  degeneration  of 
their  souls  ;  how  Tito  slips  half  consciously  down 
the  easy  slopes  of  self-indulgence,  or  Romola  learns 
through  suffering  to  ascend  the  heights  of  self-renun- 
ciation. This  contrast  between  the  human  craving 
for  happiness  regardless  of  consequences,  between 
the  simple  desire  for  pleasure  so  pathetically  inherent 
in  the  young  and  undisciplined,  and  the  stern  obliga- 
tion to  sacrifice  our  pleasure  to  the  common  good,  is 
eminently  characteristic  of  George  Eliot.  She  reiter- 
ates the  hard  lesson  with  inexorable  earnestness,  that 


456        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  weakness  which  prompts  us  to  thoughtless  self- 
gratification  is  a  wickedness  which  brings  with  it 
inevitable  retribution.  There  are  few  downright  vil- 
lains in  her  books,  but  in  almost  every  novel  are  char- 
acters that  fail  through  selfishness  or  a  weak  inability 
to  deny  themselves  the  things  that  seem  pleasant. 
Beside  Tito  Melema  we  naturally  place  the  amiable  and 
yielding  Arthur  Donnithorne,  and  in  the  same  general 
group  are  Godfrey  Cass,  Grandcourt  in  his  colossal  and 
imperturbable  egotism,  and  poor  desiccated  Casaubon 
who,  selfishly  unconscious  of  the  sacrifice,  suffers  Doro- 
thea's fresh  and  ardent  womanhood  to  be  immolated 
to  him  and  to  his  "Key  to  all  Mythologies."  In 
Adam  Bede  is  Hetty  Sorel,  with  her  soft,  girlish 
beauty,  "seeing  nothing  in  this  wide  world  but  the 
little  history  of  her  own  pleasures  and  pains";  in 
Felix  Holty  Esther  Lyon,  whom  Felix  declares  to  be 
"no  bettei'  than  a  bird  trimming  its  feathers  and 
picking  about  after  what  pleases  it";  in  Middle- 
march,  Rosamond  Vincy,  who,  we  are  told,  "  would 
never  do  anything  that  was  disagreeable  to  her,"  and 
in  Daniel  Deronda,  Gwendolen  Harleth,  set  between 
Grandcourt's  selfishness  and  Deronda's  self-sacrifice, 
"  busy,"  at  first,  "  with  her  small  inferences  of  the 
way  in  which  she  could  make  her  life  pleasant." 
Contrasted  with  such  characters,  marring  their  own 
lives  and  those  of  others  by  their  wrong  ideas  of 
life's  purpose,  are  those  who  are  strong  enough  with 
deliberate  self-abnegation  to  choose  "the  painful 
right."  Disciplined  by  suffering,  their  personal 
griefs  are  merged  in  the  peace  that  comes  from  self- 
surrender.  Yet  self-sacrifice  is  insisted  on  by  George 


RECENT  WEITEKS  457 

Eliot,  not  because  of  an  earthly  peace  or  a  future 
reward;  right-doing  is  often  a  hard  thing  ;  wrong- 
doing is  often  a  pleasant  and  an  easy  thing,  but 
"  because  right  is  right "  we  are  to  follow  it  "  in 
scorn  of  consequence."  Fedalma  exclaims  at  the 
crisis  of  her  fate  : 

"  Oh,  all  my  bliss  was  in  my  love,  but  now 
I  mey  not  taste  it ;  some  deep  energy 
Compels  me  to  choose  hunger." 

Such  a  moral  tone  is  both  lofty  and  in  the  highest 
degree  austere  and  uncompromising.  Not  only  are 
the  inexorable  claims  of  duty  constantly  forced  home 
to  us,  but  in  the  performance  of  duty  George  Eliot 
recognized  no  divine  helper ;  she  is  strengthened  by 
no  hope  of  a  reward  hereafter.  The  individual  loses 
that  the  race  may  gain.  As  surely  as  Byron  stood 
for  individualism,  hurling  his  maledictions  against 
the  universe  because  it  would  not  permit  him  to  enjoy, 
so  George  Eliot  stood  for  altruism,  teaching  that  the 
death  of  selfishness  is  our  road  and  the  world's  road 
to  progress  and  to  peace.  Such  doctrines  place  her 
with  the  great  moral  teachers  of  her  century,  but 
render  her  books  pre-eminently  exacting  and  almost 
somber.  Her  novels  move  under  a  heavy  weight 
of  tragic  earnestness ;  admirable  as  is  their  art, 
graphic  and  telling  as  is  their  humor,  they  are  weighed 
down  with  a  burden  of  philosophic  teaching  which 
in  the  later  books,  especially  Daniel  Deronda, 
grows  too  heavy  for  the  story,  and  injures  tbe 
purely  literary  value.  "  My  books,"  she  writes,  "are 
deeply  serious  things  to  me,  and  come  out  of  all 


458         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  painful  discipline,  all  the  most  hardly  learned 
lessons  of  my  past  life."  From  the  literary  aspect 
perhaps  Silas  Marner  is  her  most  artistically  perfect 
story,  and  Middlemarch  her  greatest  work.  In  the 
latter  book  that  hunger  for  an  unattainable  and  far- 
off  good,  which  George  Eliot  so  frequently  expresses, 
is  set  amid  the  stifling  atmosphere  of  modern  society. 
Trying  to  sacrifice  their  lives  to  others,  both  Doro- 
thea and  Lydgate  are  caught  in  the  mesh  of  circum- 
stances, and  fail.  "  There  is  no  sorrow,"  Dorothea 
exclaims,  "I  have  thought  more  about  than  that — to 
love  what  is  good,  to  try  to  reach  it,  and  fail."  And 
Lydgate  feels  that  in  her  words  he  has  "found  room 
for  the  full  meaning  of  his  grief."  But  quite  aside 
from  their  teaching,  it  is  the  art  of  these  great  books — 
their  poetic  beauty  of  style,  their  subtle  understand- 
ing of  the  lives  of  men  and  women — that  places  them 
with  the  great  imaginative  productions  of  the  litera- 
ture. 

While  the  life  and  aspirations  of  our  age  find  their 
most  popular  and   influential   interpretation  in   the 

,,  novel,  the  Victorian  era  has  made  some 

Recent  poetry.  ' 

lasting  additions  to  the  great  body  of 
English  poetry.  Poetry  has  been  studied  and  prac- 
ticed as  an  art  with  a  care  which  recalls  the  age  of 
Anne,  and  even  minor  writers  have  acquired  an 
extraordinary  finish  and  a  mastery  of  novel  poetic 
forms.  This  attention  to  form  is  commonly  thought 
to  have  begun  with  Keats,  and  since  1830  Tennyson 
has  proved  himself  one  of  the  most  versatile  and 
consummate  artists  in  the  history  of  English  verse. 
As  is  usual  in  periods  of  scrupulous  and  conscious 


RECENT  WEITEKS  459 

art,  this  recent  poetry  has  been  graceful  or  medita- 
tive, rather  than  powerful  and  passionate.  It  excels 
in  the  lyric  rather  than  in  the  dramatic  form  ;  it 
delights  in  expressing  the  poet's  own  shifting  moods, 
and  as  a  rule  it  leaves  to  the  novel  the  vigorous 
objective  portrayal  of  life.  It  finds  a  relief  in  escap- 
ing from  the  confined  air  of  our  modern  life  into  the 
freedom  and  simplicity  of  nature,  and  it  has  never 
lost  that  subtle  and  inspired  feeling  for  the  mystery 
of  the  visible  world  which  came  into  poetry  in  the 
previous  century.  The  supremacy  of  science  and 
the  advance  of  democracy,  the  two  motive  forces  in 
English  life  and  thought  since  1830,  have  acted  on 
modern  poetry  in  different  ways.  There  are  poets 
who  think  themselves  fallen  on  evil  days ;  who, 
repelled  by  the  sordidness,  ugliness,  and  materialism 
of  a  scientific  and  mercantile  generation,  seek  to 
escape  in  poetry  to  a  world  less  vulgar  and  more 
to  their  minds.  Like  Keats,  they  ignore  the  peculiar 
hopes  and  perplexities  of  their  age,  to  wander 
after  the  all-sufficient  spirit  of  beauty.  This  ten- 
dency is  seen  in  the  early  classic  poems  of  Matthew 
Arnold  (1822-1888),  in  the  Atalanta  in  Calydon 
of  Algernon  Charles  Swinburne  (1837 — ),  or  in  the 
poems  of  those  associated  with  the  English  Pre- 
Raphaelite  brotherhood,  as  Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti 
(1828-1882),  with  his  odor  of  Italy  and  his  rich 
and  curious  felicity  of  phrase.  Rossetti's  poetic 
world  lies  beyond  the  confines  of  our  experience,  a 
shadowy  region  lit  by  another  light  than  that  of 
common  day.  A  region  of  uncertain  shapes  and 
vague  suggestions,  ruled  by  mystery,  wonder,  beauty, 


460        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

and  love.  In  his  poetry  something  of  the  unearthly 
spirit  of  Blake  and  of  the  poet  of  The  Ancient 
Mariner,  something  of  the  magic  of  Keats'  La 
Belle  Dame  Sans  Merci,  survives.  "  The  Renais- 
sance of  Wonder,"  says  Theodore  Watts,  "  culminates 
in  Rossetti's  poetry  as  it  culminates  in  his  painting." 
To  some,  as  to  the  critic  from  whom  we  have  just 
quoted,  Rossetti's  poetry  seems  permeated  with  "  the 
ever-present  apprehension  of  the  spiritual  world "  ; 
to  others  it  is  less  spiritual  than  unreal,  not  lit  by 
Shelley's  clear  ethereal  radiance,  but  touched  with 
a  warm,  sensuous,  and  highly  wrought  beauty. 
Whichever  may  be  the  true  view,  it  is  beyond  ques- 
tion that  in  such  masterpieces  as  Rose  Mary,  Tht> 
Blessed  Damozel,  The  Ballad  of  the  White  Ship, 
The  King's  Tragedy,  and  in  many  of  his  sonnets, 
Rossetti  has  made  a  unique  and  considerable  con- 
tribution to  the  poetry  of  our  time. 

This  poetry  of  evasion,  as  it  may  be  called,  is 

seen   also   in   the   early   work    of    William    Morrig 

(1834-1896),  in  his  classic  study  of  The 

The  poetry     Lif&        d  Death  of  Jason   (1867),   and 
of  evasion.  J 

in  his  Earthly  Paradise  (1868-1870),  a 

gathering  of  beautiful  stories  from  the  myths  and 
legends  of  many  lands.  The  career  of  this  poet 
is  especially  significant:  it  exemplifies  not  only  the 
longing  of  a  beauty-loving  nature  to  escape  from  a 
sordid  and  utilitarian  age,  but  also  the  imperious 
pressure,  even  on  men  of  such  a  temper,  of  social 
issues.  Even  in  The  Earthly  Paradise,  where  the 
poet,  as 

"  The  idle  singer  of  an  empty  day," 


RECENT  WRITERS  461 

deliberately  turns  for  relief  to  tlie  fair  world  of  art, 
there  is  the  subdued  but  intrusive  thread  of  sadness. 
Even  in  this  eternal  land  of  art  the  voices  of  his  time 
trouble  him.  He  tells  us  of  pleasant  things,  as  those 
\v-ho  in  that  walled  garden  of  Boccaccio  beguiled  the 
time  in  the  sunshine,  but  his  eyes  are  troubled  as  at 
the  thought  of  a  plague-stricken  city  below.  In  his 
later  life  he  has  turned,  as  Ruskin  did,  from  the 
garden  of  art,  to  face  the  issues  of  the  street. 

Other  poets,  unsettled  by  doubts  which  have  come 
with  modern  science,  and  unable  to  reconcile  faith 
with  the  new  knowledge  of  their  time, 
carry  into  their  work  that  uncertainty 
and  unbelief  which  is  the  moral  disease 
of  theirgeneration.  As  we  have  said,  the  most  charac- 
teristic poetry  of  Matthew  Arnold  is  the  outcome  of 
this  mood,  having  in  its  doubts  a  forlorn  and  pathetic 
bravery  sadder  than  open  despair.  Somewhat  the 
same  tone  is  present,  but  animated  by  a  strain  of 
greater  faith  and  hope,  in  the  poems  of  Arnold's 
friend,  Arthur  Hugh  Clough  (1819-1861),  a  man  of 
genius  and  of  promise,  while  James  Thomson's  City 
of  Dreadful  Night  (1874)  is  the  poetry  of  despair. 
It  is  chiefly  by  this  poem,  profoundly  original,  and 
burdened  with  a  suffocating  weight  of  gloom  and 
terror,  that  Thomson  is  known.  Beside  the  weary 
anguish  of  his  cry  from  the  abyss,  the  discontent  of 
Byron  seems  the  petulance  of  a  spoiled  child.  But 
the  pathos  of  Thomson's  misery  is  heightened  by  a 
study  of  less  familiar  poems  in  which  another  side  of 
his  nature  is  disclosed.  From  them  we  learn  to  see 
in  him  a  marvelous  power  of  abandonment  to  joy. 


462       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

only  surpassed  by  his  capacity  for  despair.  Few 
poems  in  our  literature  are  gladdened  with  as  keen  a 
sensibility  to  beauty  as  the  opening  portion  of  He 
Heard  Her  Sing.  Here  the  rapture  of  the  artist's 
temperament  finds  voice,  and  the  verse  leaps  forward 
with  a  tumultuous  delight  in  the  joy  of  life.  Two 
little  idyls,  Sunday  at  Hampstead,  and  Sunday  Up 
the  Itiver,  are  very  quiet  and  full  of  sunshine  ;  but 
such  poems  only  serve  to  intensify  by  contrast  the 
blackness  of  Thomson's  despair. 

Happily  the  two  greatest  and  most  representative 
poets   of   our  epoch,  Alfred   Tennyson  and  Robert 

.         . Browning,  belong  to   neither   of    these 

The  poetry 

of  faith  and    groups.      Differing    widely    in    manner 
h°Pe-  and  in  their  theory  of  art,  they  have  at 

least  one  point  in  common.  Both  face  frankly  and 
boldly  the  many  questions  of  their  age  ;  neither 
evading  nor  succumbing  to  its  intellectual  difficulties, 
they  still  find  beauty  and  goodness  in  the  life  of  the 
world  about  them  ;  holding  fast  the  "  things  which 
are  not  seen  "  as  a  present  reality,  they  still  cherish 
"  the  faith  which  looks  through  death." 

Alfred  Tennyson  (1809-1892)  is  already  acknowl- 
edged as  the  representative  English  poet  of  his  time. 
So  far  as  contemporary  judgment  can 
Tennyson,      foresee,  his  work  will  stand  to  posterity 
as   the   most    rounded,   melodious,   and 
adequate  expression  in  poetry  of  the  soul  of  Victor- 
ian England.     Singularly  sensitive  to  the  intellectual 
and    spiritual    perturbations   of    his    time,   he    has 
responded  to  its   moods,  entered    into    its   passing 
phases  of  thought,  and  made  them  the  very  breath 


LORD    TENNYSON 


BECENT  WRITEBS  463 

and  animating  principle  of  his  work.  He  is  a  lover 
of  beauty  and  his  view  of  life  is  essentially  spiritual, 
yet  one  great  motive  power  in  his  work  is  that 
science  which  has  been  the  dominant  intellectual 
force  in  his  time. 

Close  as  he  has  lived  to  his  age  in  spirit,  Tennyson 
has  d \velt  in  communion  with  Nature,  holding  him- 
self consistently  aloof  from  active  participation  in 
the  restless  and  high-pressure  life  of  his  generation. 
Shy,  morbidly  sensitive,  silent,  except  among  an 
inner  circle  of  chosen  friends,  the  poet  has  locked 
himself  from  his  kind  with  books  and  nature,  a 
remote  and  keen  observer  of  the  conflicts  in  which  he 
did  not  share  ;  to  whose  eyes  the  whole  battlefield  lay 
disclosed. 

Thus  two  great  influences  seem  to  have  combined 
in  Tennyson's  life,  to  render  him  what  he  was  : 
Nature  and  books.  Like  Wordsworth,  he  was 
country-bred,  and  shunned  the  air  of  cities  ;  even  to 
the  last  he  "  still  was  Nature's  priest."  But,  unlike 
"Wordsworth,  who  had  but  little  of  the  book  lover  or 
the  scholar  about  him,*  Tennyson  lived  close  to  his 
time,  and  to  all  times,  through  his  love  of  books. 
On  the  side  of  scholarship,  Tennyson  claims  kindred, 
not  with  Wordsworth  but  with  Milton,  who  was, 
perhaps,  rather  the  poet  of  the  library  than  of  the 
fields.  Like  Milton,  he  brought  to  the  service  of  his 
art  all  that  could  be  gathered  by  a  lifelong  study  of 

*  Substantiate  this  statement.  V.,  inter  alia,  the  story  of 
Wordsworth's  cutting  the  pages  of  Burke  with  a  knife  which 
had  been  used  to  butter  toast,  in  De  Quincey's  Literary 
ReminisctncM,  chap,  xiii.,  "  "Wordsworth  and  Southey." 


464     INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  great  productions  of  the  past.  His  poetry  rep- 
resents the  best  traditions  of  literature,  as  truly  as 
Browning's  represents  a  distinctly  radical  element, 
and  he  constantly  delights  the  scholar  by  reminiscen- 
ces of  his  studies  of  the  great  poets  of  antiquity.* 
Through  the  printed  page  he  felt  with  no  less  dis- 
tinctness the  pulse  of  the  world  of  living  men  with- 
fcttt.  The  force  of  these  combined  influences,  books 
and  Nature,  grows  clearer  as  we  recall  the  story  of  the 
poet's  secluded  and  uneventful  life. 

Alfred  Tennyson  was  born  August  6,  1809,  at 
Somersby,  a  tiny  village  in  the  East  Midland  region 
of  Lincolnshire,  where  his  father,  the  Rev.  George 
Clayton  Tennyson,  was  rector.  The  country  imme- 
diately about  Somersby  has  a  richness  and  beauty 
wanting  in  many  parts  of  the  county  ;  there  is  no 
fen-land,  but  the  Lills  slope  softly  into  rich  valleys. 
Here  and  there  are  bits  of  woodland  ;  near  by  there 
is  a  glen  where  the  earth  is  moist  under  the  shadow 
of  the  pines.  It  was  into  the  depth  of  this  glen, 
while  the  woi'ld  was  mourning  a  great  poet,  that  the 
boy  Tennyson  stole  away  alone,  and  in  the  fullness  of 
his  youthful  despair  cut  in  the  sandstone  the  words, 
"  Byron  is  dead."  Tennyson's  work  bears  witness  to 
the  indelible  impress  of  these  early  surroundings. 
'The  explorer  recognizes  here  the  brook 

"That  loves 

To  purl  o'er  matted  cress  and  ribbed  sand 
Or  dimple  in  the  dark  of  rushy  coves  j "  f 
*7I  E.  C.  Stedman's  study  of  Tennyson  and  Theocritus,  in 
his  Victorian  Poets,  and  the  more  recent  work  of  Mr.  J.  Chtir- 
ton  Collins  on  the  classical  element  in  Tennyson. 
4  "  Ode  to  Memory. " 


RECENT  WRITERS  465 

Le  comes  upon  a  gray,  half-ruined  grange  which 
recalls  the  desolate  retreat  of  Mariana,  or,  from  a 
neighboring  hill,  he  looks  out  over  the  long  sweep  of 
the  "  ridged  wolds  "  which,  rising  from  the  low  levels 
of  the  plain,  stretch  away  forty  miles  to  the  north- 
ward until  they  meet  the  distant  waters  of  the 
Humber. 

"  Calm  and  still  light  on  yon  great  plain 
That  sweeps  with  all  its  autumn  bowers, 
And  crowded  farms  and  lessening  towers, 
To  mingle  with  the  bounding  main."  * 

The  grassy  expanse  of  the  Lincolnshire  wolds, 
"  wide,  wild,  and  open  to  the  air,"  under  a  heaven  of 
gray  cloud,  is  suggested  in  the  opening  lines  of  "  The 
Dying  Swan,"  while  an  allusion  like  that  to  "  the  low 
morass  and  whispering  reed  "  carries  us  to  the  fen- 
land  that  lay  a  short  distance  to  the  south.  We 
must  think  of  the  boy  Tennyson  wandering  among 
such  scenes,  from  the  first  reticent  and  undemonstra- 
tive, but,  we  may  be  sure,  living  through  those 
intense,  inward  experiences  which,  often  hidden  or 
unintelligible  to  those  about,  yet  make  up  the  true 
life-history  of  every  emotional  and  imaginative  child. 
After  some  training  at  home,  and  in  the  Grammar 
School  at  Louth,  a  town  some  twenty  miles  from 
Somersby,  Tennyson  entered  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
bridge, in  1828.  Here,  shy  as  he  was,  he  showed 
that  he  had  a  rare  and  beautiful  capacity  for  friend- 
ship. He  joined  a  debating  society  which  included 
among  its  members  James  Spedding,  F.  D,  Maurice, 

*  In  Memoriam,  xL 


466        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

R.  C.  Trench,  and  others,  the  choicest  spirits  of  the 
college.*  Above  all  the  others  was  one  whose  short 
life  is  indissolubly  linked  with  the  career  of  Tenny- 
son, Arthur  Henry  Hallam,  a  young  man  of  rare 
promise  and  singularly  sweet  and  lovable  nature. 
Long  before  he  entered  college  Tennyson  had  written 
verses,  he  had  even  printed  a  volume  in  conjunction 
with  his  brother  Charles,  in  1827  ;  but  at  Cambridge 
he  first  made  a  decided  impression  by  his  prize  poem 
Timbuctoo.  In  1830  Tennyson  made  his  real  entrance 
into  the  world  of  English  letters  by  the  publication 
of  a  slim  volume,  Poems,  Chiefly  Lyrical.  We  can 
see  now,  in  this  little  book,  the  advent  of  a  new  poet. 
It  is  largely  the  work  of  an  experimentalist  in  meter 
and  melody,  including  as  it  does  such  tone-studies  as 
"  Claribel "  and  "  Lilian."  These  are  the  preliminary 
studies  of  an  artist  with  a  fresh  and  exquisite  feeling 
for  beauty  of  form,  who  is  bent  on  mastering  the 
technique  of  his  craft.  Differing  widely  from  Pope 
in  his  poetic  manner,  he  has  an  equally  scrupulous 
desire  for  technical  excellence.  He  has  something  of 
Keats'  sensuous  delight  in  color  and  melody,  some- 
thing of  his  magical  excellence  of  phrase,  yet  even 
in  this  early  effort  we  detect  a  characteristic  note  of 
divergence  from  those  poets  who,  like  Keats,  loved 
"  beauty  only."  He  shows  us  his  ideal  poet  f 
"  dowered  with  the  hate  of  hate,  the  scorn  of  scorn, 
the  love  of  love,"  whose  melodies  fling  all  abroad 

*  Many  of  them  became  Tennyson's  lifelong  friends.  For 
reminiscences  of  the  society  v.  In  Memoriam,  Ixxxvii. 

f  See  "  The  Poet"  and  "  The  Poet's  Mind,"  included  origin- 
ally  in  the  edition  of  1830. 


RECENT  WRITERS  46  f 

"the  winged  shafts  "  not  of  beauty  but  "  of  truth." 
In  a  remarkable  and  important  poem,  The,  Palace  of 
Art,  which  appeared  in  a  volume  published  in  1832, 
Tennyson  defines  his  position  on  this  point  with 
extraordinary  vigor  and  distinctness.  Against  Keats' 
reiterated  poetic  principle,  that 

"  Beauty  is  truth  ;  truth,  beauty,"  * 

Tennyson  sets  the  solemn  allegory  of  the  "sinfu» 
soul,"  which  possessed  all  good  things,  merely  that 
they  might  contribute  to  a  mere  selfish  lust  of 
aesthetic  enjoyment.  Stricken  through  at  last  with 
remorse,  the  soul,  in  the  isolation  of  its  gilded  tow- 
ers, hears  afar  off,  with  perception  born  of  love,  the 
call  of  humanity.  To  the  fine  aesthetic  sensibilities 
of  Keats,  Tennyson  thus  added  a  moral  earnestness 
in  which,  so  far  as  appears,  Keats  was  deficient.  He 
remained  unfaltering  in  his  allegiance  to  the  loftiest 
conception  of  the  poet's  mission.  It  is  his  distinc- 
tion to  have  successfully  combined  the  conscience  of 
the  man  with  the  conscience  of  the  artist,  and  to  the 
last  to  have  "  followed  the  gleam."  f 

Tennyson  lost  his  father  in  1830,  and  in  that  year 
left  Cambridge  without  taking  a  degree.  In  1833 
came  the  shock  of  a  profounder  sorrow  in  the  loss  of 
his  more  than  brother,  Arthur  Hallam,J  who  died 
suddenly  at  Vienna.  In  Memoriam,  that  incompa- 

*  Keats'  Ode  on  a  Grecian  Urn. 

t  See  "  Merlin  and  the  Gleam,"  in  Demeter,  and  Other 
Poems. 

\  "  More  than  my  brothers  are  to  me." — In  Memoriam,  lx.f 
hate. 


468        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

rable  poem  in  which  Tennyson  long  after  gave  to 
the  world  the  record  of  this  story  of  friendship  and 
loss,  admits  us  into  the  sacred  places  of  this  great 
grief.  Tennyson's  shy  and  morbidly  reticent  nature 
made  him  shrink  from  contact  with  the  world  at 
large,  and  he  was  all  the  more  dependent  for  love 
and  sympathy  on  the  friendship  of  the  tried  and 
chosen  few.  Among  them  Hallam  had  held  the  first 
place,  and  his  loss  not  only  seemed  to  tear  away  part 
of  Tennyson's  life,  but,  if  we  may  judge  from  In 
Memoriam,  it  set  the  poet  face  to  face  with  the  ever- 
lasting and  primal  questions  of  existence.  The 
secret  vicissitudes  of  the  soul  within  us,  the  hidden 
convulsions  which  shake  the  balance  of  life,  the  pain- 
ful readjustment  to  changed  conditions,  these  things 
that  constitute  the  essence  of  a  true  biography,  are 
but  a  matter  of  surmise  to  those  without.  After 
Hallam's  death  Tennyson  settled  in  London,  living 
much  to  himself,  writing  constantly,  but  publishing 
almost  nothing.  He  belonged  to  a  select  coterie,  the 
"  Sterling  Club,"  where  he  met  Cavlyle,  Thackeray, 
Landor,  and  other  famous  men.  It  was  a  time  of 
preparation  and  growth,  under  the  teaching  of  death 
and  sorrow.  Nearly  ten  years  of  silence  were  at  last 
broken  by  the  publication,  in  1842,  of  two  volumes 
of  poems.  The  book  included  all  of  the  earlier 
poems  of  which  the  author's  maturer  taste  approved, 
revised  with  the  Tennysonian  fastidiousness,  and 
about  as  much  new  matter.  The  new  poems,  among 
which  were  the  "  Morte  d' Arthur,"  "  Ulysses,"  "  The 
Two  Voices,"  and  "  Locksley  Hall,"  showed  a  broad- 
ening and  deepening  power,  and  the  volumes  won 


BECENT  WRITERS  469 

Tennyson  an  enthusiastic  recognition  from  both  critics 
and  readers.  A  year  later  the  veteran  Wordsworth 
pronounced  him  "  decidedly  the  greatest  of  our  living 
poets,"  *  and  from  this  time  he  took  that  leading 
place  in  the  literature  of  his  day  which  his  astonish- 
ing vitality  and  productiveness  so  long  maintained. 
The  collected  poems  of  1842  showed  plainly  that  dis- 
tinguishing trait  of  Tennyson,  his  extraordinary  mas- 
tery in  widely  different  fields.  His  genius  is  eclectic. 
The  classic  world,  as  in  "Ulysses"  or  "Lucretius"; 
the  mediaeval,  as  in"Stylites"  or  "Galahad";  the 
modern,  as  in  "  The  Gardener's  Daughter  "  or  Maud, 
all  are  at  his  command.  He  is  the  consummate 
artist,  as  versatile  in  manner  as  he  is  varied  in  sub- 
ject. He  can  pass  at  will  from  the  noble  epic  roll  of 
the  Idylls  to  the  rough  dialect  of  the  "  Northern  Far- 
mer"; from  the  pseudo-Wordsworthian  simplicity 
of  "  Dora  "  to  the  somewhat  Corinthian  ornateness  of 
Enoch  Arden.  In  "  The  Voyage  of  Maeldune  "  he 
touches  Rossetti  and  the  Pre-Raphaelites,  while  in 
such  stirring  battle  lyrics  as  "The  Revenge  "  and  the 
"  Light  Brigade  "  he  invades  the  province  of  Drayton 
and  of  Campbell.  Yet  in  all  there  is  an  indefinable 
flavor  of  individuality,  the  rough  edges  and  sharp 
angles  of  fact  are  softened,  and  life  is  seen  through 
a  golden  haze  of  meditative  beauty.  In  the  smooth 
flow  of  the  verse,  in  its  very  turns  and  pauses,  we 
recognize  the  trick  of  the  Tennysonian  manner. 
"Locksley  Hall  "  is  one  of  the  poems  which  show  the 
nearness  of  the  poet  to  his  time.  It  breathes  the 
intensity,  the  exaggeration,  the  quick  despair,  the 

•Letter  to  Professor  Henry  Reed. 


470        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

vast  and  unconquerable  hopes  of  youth,  and  it 
sounded  as  a  trumpet  call  to  the  young  men  of  that 
generation.  We  are  swept  on  in  its  buoyant  move- 
ment by  the  prophetic  enthusiasm  of  the  new  science 
which  was  transforming  the  world.  The  strain  of 
personal  complaining  is  overpowered  by  the  deep 
pulsations  of  the  "  wondrous  mother  age."  In  its 
vision  of  the  world  that  shall  be,  the  very  heavens 
are  filled  with  the  argosies  of  commerce.  Then 
there  comes  that  chant  of  a  progressive  humanity 
which  is  one  of  the  recurrent  motifs  in  modern  liter- 
ature. As  Burns  had  discerned  a  time  of  universal 
brotherhood  "  comin'  yet  for  a'  that,"  so  Tennyson 
sees  afar  off  the  era  of  a  universal  peace,  the  day  of 
the  parliament  of  man,  when  the  whole  world  shall 
be  one  group  of  confederated  states,  when 

"  The  common  sense  of  most  shall  hold  a  fretful  realm  in  awe, 
And  the  kindly  earth  shall  slumber,  lapt  in  universal  law." 

From  1842  until  the  time  of  his  death,  Tennyson 
lived  a  life  of  seclusion  and  steady  industry  :  a  life 
marked  by  few  striking  outward  happenings,  and 
chiefly  remarkable  for  that  progress  of  the  soul 
within  of  which  the  succession  of  his  books  is  the 
lasting  memorial.  The  year  1850  stands  out  from 
the  rest  as  the  year  of  his  marriage  to  Miss  Emily 
Sellwood,  of  the  publication  of  In  Memoriam*, 
and  of  his  appointment  to  the  Laureateship.  Three 
years  later  he  settled  at  Farringford,  in  the  Isle  of 
Wight.  With  Farringford  and  with  a  place  at 
Blackdown  in  Sussex,  which  he  bought  in  1867  to 
avoid  the  curiosity  of  American  tourists,  his  later  life 


BECENT  WRITERS  471 

is  chiefly  associated.  He  bent  all  the  fullness  of  his 
powers  to  win  success  in  two  great  fields  of  poetry 
which  in  his  earlier  years  he  had  left  unat tempted — 
the  Epic  and  the  Drama.  Four  of  the  Idylls  of  the 
King  appeared  in  1859,  and  others  were  gradually 
.  added  until  the  work  grew  to  the  symmetry  of  its 
*  full  proportions.  In  1875  he  published  Queen  Mary, 
the  first  of  his  series  of  dramas.  That  a  poet  of 
sixty-six,  with  a  lifetime  of  successes  behind  him  in 
widely  different  lines,  should  leave  them  to  struggle 
with  the  difficulties  of  a  new  and  highly  technical 
form  of  composition,  and  that  he  should  persevere  in 
this  in  spite  of  repeated  discouragements,  is  worthy 
of  especial  notice.  The  purely  spiritual  side  of 
Tennyson's  genius,  present  almost  from  the  first, 
grew  with  his  growth.  The  merely  sensuous  delight 
in  the  tangible  revelation  of  beauty,  the  luxury  of 
eye  and  ear,  yielded  to  a  deeper  perception  of  an 
underlying  world  of  spirit,  of  which  this  world  of 
sight  and  touch  seemed  but  the  shadow.  The  second 
"Locksley  Hall"  is  full  of  a  sense  of  the  limitations 
of  the  new  science,  as  the  first  is  the  paean  of  its  seem, 
ingly  boundless  possibilities.  In  "  Despair  "  the  issue 
raised  by  the  scientific  thought  of  the  day  is  faced 
with  a  merciless  and  unflinching  power.  If  the  world 
is  Godless  and  man  but  a  better  brute,  our  life  is  a 
cheat  and  a  curse,  and  endurance  of  it  intolerable 
and  purposeless.  Face  this  and  end  it.  Here  the 
extreme  but  logical  conclusion  of  those  who  see 
nothing  in  the  universe  but  matter  and  law,  ia 
thrust  home  on  us  in  poetry  of  passion  and  of  terror. 
Meanwhile,  in  such  poems  as  "  De  Profundis  "  and 


472        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

"  The  Ancient  Sage,"  we  see  Tennyson's  own  con« 
viction  deepen  that  God  and  spirit  are  the  eter- 
nal realities  of  the  world.  Poem  after  poem  in 
Demeter,  a  book  published  just  before  the  poet's 
death,  turns  on  the  mysterious  relation  of  soul  and 
body.  It  is  the  book  of  old  age,  written  in  the 
shadow  of  that  night  when  no  man  can  work.  The 
servant  body  is  falling  into  ruin,  but  everywhere  the 
triumph  of  the  undying  spirit  over  the  failing  flesh 
is  triumphantly  proclaimed.  The  body  is  "foul  at 
best  ";  it  is  but  "the  house  of  a  brute  let  to  the  soul 
of  a  man,"  and  its  office  done,  the  man  "  stands  on 
the  heights  of  his  life,  with  a  glimpse  of  a  height 
that  is  higher."  *  When  he  wrote  Demeter,  Ten- 
nyson had  passed  the  allotted  threescore  years  and 
ten.  He  was  awaiting  with  a  beautiful  tranquillity 
and  confidence  the  time  when  the  door  of  this 
"  goodly  prison  "  should  be  opened.  Death  came  to 
him  gently,  as  the  gracious  and  fitting  close  to  a  lofty  j 
life.  The  white  mist  hung  low  over  the  earth,  but  f 
the  room  in  which  the  poet  lay  was  glorious  in  moon- 
light. Illuminated  in  its  white  radiance,  a  volume  of 
Shakespeare  in  his  hand,  his  finger  still  marking  the 
dirge  in  Cymbeline  which  he  had  lately  read,  the 
Laureate  passed  peacefully  out  of  this  "bourne  of 
time  and  space  "f  as  one  prepared  to  depart. 

Theodore  Watts  has  told  us  that  there  are  poets  of 
energy  and  poets  of  art  \ — poets,  that  is,  whose  pre- 

*  "  By  an  Evolutionist,"  in  Demeter,  and  oilier  Poems. 
•f  "  Crossing  the  Bar."    Ibid. 

$  See  the  admirable  and  suggestive  essay  on  "Poetry  "in 
the  Encyclopaedia  Britanmca,  ninth  edition. 


BECENT  WBITEB6  473 

dominant  quality  is  original  power,  eruptive  and 
Tennyson's  irresistib^e  as  tne  volcanic  discharge  of 
work.  molten  lava,  and  poets  whose  well 

ordered  and  less  impulsive  work  bears  the  high  finish 
of  a  refined  and  scrupulous  art.  In  our  day,  Brown- 
ing admirably  represents  the  poet  of  energy,  while 
Tennyson  stands  no  less  emphatically  as  the  poet  of 
art.  As  a  craftsman  Tennyson  has  few  superiors  in  our 
literature;  he  approaches  Milton  in  the  perfection  and 
excels  him  in  the  variety  of  his  poetic  workmanship. 
The  Tennysonian  style  at  its  best  has  "an  extreme 
subtlety  and  curious  elaborateness  of  expression";* 
it  has  that  intricac\r  of  structure  which  points  to 
extreme  care  and  slowness  in  composition.  While  at 
times  it  can  be  terse  and  strong,  or  obtrusively  simple 
and  unadorned,  its  characteristic  excellence  is  not 
compression  or  directness.  Tennyson's  gift  is  neither 
the  sublime  reticence  and  conciseness  of  Dante,  nor 
the  limpid  and  indescribably  moving  simplicity  of 
Wordsworth  when  he  is  at  his  best.  Graceful,  melo- 
dious, and  tender,  Tennyson  breathes  through  silver 
rather  than  blows  through  bronze.  While  in  Brown- 
ing's masculine  and  rugged  uttentnce  the  thinker 
obtrudes  himself,  so  that  inconsiderate  readers  are 
often  led  to  undervalue  the  purely  poetic  excellence, 
in  Tennyson,  through  the  very  charm  and  perfection 
of  his  art,  we  are  rather  apt  ';o  underestimate  the 

*  Matthew  Arnold,  On  Translating  Homer,  p..  285  (Mac- 
millan's  edition).  The  student  is  ad\  ised  to  read  carefully  the 
analysis  of  Tennyson's  style  in  this  passage.  Note  particu- 
larly the  distinction  between  the  timplicite  of  Wordsworth  and 
Tennyson's  rimpleue,  p.  280. 


474        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

solid  substratum  of  philosophic  thought.  We  will 
therefore  briefly  consider  Tennyson's  poetry  from 
this  aspect  in  preference  to  dwelling  on  its  obvious 
beauties.  We  will  attempt  to  relate  his  work  to 
those  two  new  elements — the  close  communion  with 
the  life  of  nature,  the  broader  sympathy  with  the 
life  of  man — which  we  saw  take  their  rise  in  the  first 
quarter  of  the  eighteenth  century  to  become  the 
motive  force  in  the  literature  of  modern  times.  As  a 

_  poet  of  nature  Tennyson  is  sometimes 

Tennyson  as    i  J 

a  poet  of         spoken  of  as  the  disciple  of  Wordsworth, 
nature.  jjut  jn  faot}  while  he  resembles  the  older 

poet  in  minuteness  and  accuracy  of  observation,  in 
other  respects  his  attitude  is  fundamentally  different. 
As  we  have  said,  to  Wordsworth  an  Infinite  Power 
was  perpetually  revealing  itself,  not  merely  through 
but  in  nature.  He  believed  that  nature  possessed  a 
conscious  life,  and  that 

"Every  flower 
Enjoys  the  air  it  breathes." 

Tennyson,  on  the  other  hand,  especially  in  his 
earlier  work,  is  ii  ipressed  with  the  order  underlying 
the  processes  of  nature,  with  the  "  law  which  cannot 
be  broken,"  and  is  not  insensible,  as  was  Words- 
worth, to  the  aloofness  and  even  apparent  antagonism 
of  nature  to  man.  In  a  word,  Wordsworth's  view  of 
nature  is  essentially  mystical,  and  Tennyson's  inher- 
ently scientific.  To  Wordsworth,  moreover,  as  in 
"The  Primrose  and  the  Rock,"  nature  seems  the 
unbroken  revelation  of  divine  love,  while  Tennyson, 
like  Lucretius,  Byron,  and  Leopardi,  is  not  insensible 


BECENT  WBITEBS  475 

to  the  mystery  of  her  seeming  cruelty  and  indiffer* 
ence.  To  the  misanthropic  hero  of  Maud, 

"Nature  is  one  with  rapine,  a  harm  no  preacher  can  heal ; 
The    mayfly  is    torn    by   the    swallow,    the     sparrow 
speared  by  the  shrike,"* 

I  the  "  whole  little  world  "  is  "  a  world  of  plunder  and 
'prey."  The  conviction  of  Lucretius  that  man  is  but 
the  puppet  of  mighty  and  impersonal  agencies,  pro- 
duced and  destroyed  with  equal  indifference  by  the 
mechanical  operation  of  purposeless  laws  of  life,  is 
recognized  and  combated  in  In  Memoriam  and 
"Despair."  Tennyson  quiets  this  paralyzing  fear  by 
his  unshakable  trust  in  the  faith  and  lofty  intuitions  of 
man's  soul,  and  by  his  assurance  that  the  workings  of 
nature  show  an  eternal  purpose  of  progress,  rather 
than  the  operation  of  blind  and  meaningless  forces. 
He  finds  God 

"Not  in  world  or  sun, 
Or  eagle's  wing,  or  insect's  eye,"f 

nor  in  "  the  freezing  reason,"  but  in  man's  capacity 
to  feel.  He  opposes  to  nature's  apparent  indifference 
and  cruelty  the  doctrine  of  evolution.  This  doctrine, 
the  greatest  contribution  to  thought  of  contemporary 
science,  finds  in  Tennyson  its  poetic  exponent;  it  is 
the  very  foundation  stone  of  his  philosophy. 

In  his  feeling  for  nature  Tennyson  is  thus  as  truly 
the  poet  of  modern  science  as  Wordsworth  and  Cole- 
ridge were  of  the  German  philosophy  of  their  day, 
but  lie  accepts  the  dogmas  of  science  only  to  interpret 
them  according  to  his  own  poetic  and  spiritual  insight. 
*  Maud,  iv.  stanza  4.  \In  Memoriam,  cxxiv. 


476        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Tennyson  is  no  less  distinctively  the  scientist  in 

his  views  of  human  progress  ;  he  recognizes  a  gradual 

and  orderly  development  as  the  law  alike 

Tennyson  as  Qf  j,uman   society  and  of  the  material 

poet  of  man.  •* 

world.  Byron's  rebellious  and  ill-regu- 
lated clamor  for  liberty,  Shelley's  noble  "passion  for 
reforming  the  world  "  by  some  sweeping  and  unac- 
countable conversion  of  humanity,  is  succeeded  by 
Tennyson's  belief  in  that  "moving  upward"  through 
the  innumerable  centuries  whereby  the  beast  in  man 
is  brought  at  length  under  the  mastery  of  the  spirit. 
In  their  youth  Byron  and  Shelley  saw  liberty  stricken 
down  and  bleeding  through  the  reactionary  power  of 
conservatism  ;  Tennyson,  as  a  young  man,  witnessed 
the  passage  of  the  first  Reform  Bill  (1832)  and  other 
hardly  less  important  measures,  by  the  strength  of 
the  reviving  democracy  ;  he  beheld  the  peaceful 
advance  of  liberty  by  the  modification  and  through 
the  agency  of  existing  institutions.  This  gradual, 
legal  and  definite  progress  he  has  from  first  to  last 
consistently  represented.  At  the  outset  of  his  career 
he  rejoices  to  see  freedom 

"  Slowly  broaden  down 
From  precedent  to  precedent."  * 

At  its  close  he  pictures  her  as  one  who 

"like  nature,  would'st  not  mar 
By  changes  all  too  fierce  and  fast : 
This  order  of  her  human  star, 
This  heritage  of  the  past."  f 

*"  You  ask  me  why,  tho'  ill  at  ease." 
f  See  also  "  Politics  "  in  Demetcr. 


RECENT  WRITERS  477 

Tennyson  often  touches  on  the  social  questions  of 
his  time:  in  The  Princess  on  the  rights  of  women  ; 
in  a  large  group  of  poems,  in  which  Maud,  Aylmer's 
Field,  and  "  Locksley  Hall  "  are  included,  on  social 
distinctions  as  a  bar  to  marriage.  But  the  noblest 
and  most  important  exposition  of  his  views  of  human 
progress  is  found  in  Idylls  of  the  King. 

The  Idylls  of  the  King  has  been  called  a  quasi- 
epic.    Departing  from  the  conventional  epic  form  by 
its   lack   of   a   closely    continuous    nar- 
rative, it  has  yet  that  lofty  manner  and  the^in/" 
underlying  unity  of  design  which  leads 
us  to  class  it  with  the  epics  at  least  in  the  essentials. 
It  consists  of  a  series   of  chivalric   legends,   taken 
chiefly    from  the  Morte    d' *  Arthur   of   Sir    Thomas 
Malory,  grouped  so  as  to  exhibit  the  establishment, 
the  greatness,  and  the  downfall  of  an  ideal  kingdom, 
of    righteousness   among  men.      "  The   Coming   of 
Arthur,"  the  ideal  ruler,  shows  us  the  setting  up  of 
this  kingdom.     Before  this  was  disorder,  great  tracts 
of  wilderness, 

"  Wherein  the  beast  was  ever  more  and  more, 
But  man  was  less  and  less."  * 

Arthur  slays  the  beast  and  fells  the  forest,  and  the 
old  order  changes  to  give  place  to  new.  Then  the 
song  of  Arthur's  knights  rises,  a  majestic  chorus  of 
triumph  : 

"  Clang  battle-ax  and  clash  brand.     Let  the  King  reign." 
In  "  Gareth    and  Lynette  "  the  newly  established 
kingdom  is  seen  doing  its  work  among  men.     Arthur, 
*  "  The  Coming  of  Arthur." 


478        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURB 

enthroned  in  his  great  hall,  dispenses  impartial  justice. 
The  knights 

"  Ride  abroad  redressing  human  wrongs." 

The  allegory  shows  us,  in  Gareth's  contests  with 
the  knights  "  that  have  no  law  nor  King,"  the 
contest  of  the  soul  with  the  temptations  that  at  dif- 
ferent periods  of  life  successively  attack  it : 

"  The  war  of  Time  against  the  soul  of  man."* 

Then  follow  the  Idylls,  which  trace  the  entrance 
and  growth  of  an  element  of  sin  and  discord,  which 
spreading  pulls  down  into  ruin  that  "fellowship  of 
noble  knights,"  "  which  are  an  image  of  the  mighty 
world."  The  purity  of  the  ideal  kingdom  is  fouled, 
almost  at  its  source,  by  the  guilty  love  of  Lancelot 
and  the  Queen.  Among  some  the  contagion  spreads  ; 
while  others,  in  an  extremity  of  protest,  start  in  quest 
of  the  Holy  Grail,  leaving  the  duty  at  hand  for 
mystical  visions.  Man  cannot  bring  down  heaven 
to  earth,  he  cannot  sanctify  the  mass  of  men  by  his 
own  rapturous  anticipations  ;  he  cannot  safely  neg- 
lect the  preliminary  stages  of  progress  appointed  for 
the  race,  he  "  may  not  wander  from  the  allotted 
field  before  his  work  be  done."  f 

So  by  impurity  and  by  impatience  the  rift  in  the 
kingdom  widens,  and  in  "  The  Last  Tournament,"  in 
the  stillness  before  the  impending  doom,  we  hear  the 
shrill  voice  of  Dagonet  railing  at  the  King,  who 
thinks  himself  as  God,  that  he  can  make 

•"Gareth  and  Lynette."    Note  the  significance  of  the  entire 
passage  in  which  this  line  occurs. 
f  «•  The  Holy  Grail." 


RECENT  WRITERS  479 

"  Honey  from  hornet-combs 
And  men  from  beasts." 

In  "  Guinevere,"  unequaled  elsewhere  in  the  Idylls 
in  pure  poetry,  the  blow  falls  ;  at  length,  in  the  con- 
cluding poem,  Arthur  passes  to  the  isle  of  Avilion, 
and  once  more 

"  The  old  order  changeth,  yielding  place  to  new."  * 

Tennyson  himself  tells  us  that  in  this,  his  longest 
poem,  he  has  meant  to  shadow  "  sense  at  war  with 
soul,"  f  the  struggle  in  the  individual  and  in  the 
race,  between  that  body  which  links  us  with  the  brute 
and  the  soul  which  makes  us  part  of  a  spiritual  order. 
But  the  mastery  of  the  higher  over  the  lower  is  only 
obtained  through  many  seeming  failures.  Wounded 
and  defeated,  the  King  exclaims  : 

"  For  I,  being  simple,  thought  to  work  His  will, 
And  have  but  stricken  with  the  sword  in  vain  ; 
And  all  whereon  I  lean'd,  in  wife  and  friend, 
Is  traitor  to  my  peace,  and  all  my  realm 
Heels  back  into  the  beast,  and  is  no  more."  t 

But  he  also  half  perceives  the  truth  which  it  is  the 
poet's  purpose  to  suggest  to  us.  It  is  short-sighted 
to  expect  the  immediate  sanctification  of  the  race  ;  if 
we  are  disheartened,  striving  to  "  work  His  will,"  it  is 
because  "  we  see  not  to  the  close."  It  is  impossible 
that  Arthur's  work  should  end  in  failure — departing, 
he  declares,  "  I  pass,  but  shall  not  die,"  and  when  hifl 

*  "  The  Passing  of  Arthur." 

f  "  To  the  Queen,"  epilogue  to  Idylls  of  the  King. 

%  "  The  Passing  of  Arthur." 


480        1NTBOUUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

grievous  wound  is  healed,  he  will  return.  The  IdylU 
of  the  King  is  thus  the  epic  of  evolution  in  appli- 
cation to  the  progress  of  human  society.  In  it  the 
teachings  of  In  Memoriam  assume  a  narrative  form. 

"  Move  upward,  working  out  the  beast," 

may  be  taken  as  a  brief  statement  of  its  theme  ;  and 
we  read  in  it  the  belief  in  the  tendency  upward  and 
an  assurance  of  ultimate  triumph  : 

"  Oh,  yet  we  trust  that  somehow  good 
Will  be  the  final  goal  of  ill, 
To  pangs  of  nature,  sins  of  will 
Defects  of  doubt,  and  taints  of  blood  ; 

That  nothing  walks  with  aimless  feet, 
That  not  one  life  shall  be  destroyed, 
Or  cast  as  rubbish  to  the  void 

When  God  hath  made  the  pile  complete."* 

Tennyson,  as  the  representative  poet  of  modern 
England,  is  the  poet  of  modern  science.  But  he  also 
represents  that  intense  spirituality  which  is  con- 
spicuously present  in  these  so-called  mercantile  and 
material  times.  With  the  scientist's  deep  perception 
of  the  presence  of  law,  he  himself  shared,  as  did 
Wordsworth,  in  the  visionary  rapture  of  the  mystics. 
For  him,  as  for  Arthur,  the  world  of  spirit  veritably 
exists,  more  substantial  than  the  world  of  sense,  but 
the  barrier  to  our  entrance  is  in  our  own  limited 
powers.  When  the  knights  report  the  result  of 
their  search  after  the  Grail,  Arthur  declares  : 

"  Te  have  seen  what  ye  have  seen  "•— 
*  In.  Memoriam,  liv. 


RECENT  WAITERS  481 

each  as  much  as  his  spiritual  sight  permitted  him. 
Those  with  Gareth  looking  on  the  towers  of  Camelot, 
cry  out  in  the  disbelief  of  the  materialist : 

"  Lord,  there  is  no  such  city  anywhere 
But  all  a  vision." 

But  the  warder  tells  them  that  the  city  is  spiritual 
and  therefore  real,  seeing  it 

"  is  built 

To  music,  therefore  never  built  at  all 
And  therefore  built  forever." 

Tennyson  unites  the  modern  grasp  of  physical 
truth  with  the  apprehension  of  that  spiritual  element 
which  permeates  and  sustains  it,  and  to  him,  as  his 
own  Arthur,  the 

"Visions  of  the  night  or  of  the  day 
Come  as  they  will."* 

Appreciating,  with  the  scientist,  the  law  of  the 
world  of  sense,  he  yet  asks  with  the  idealist : 

"The  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  the  seas,  the  hills,  and  the 

plains — 
Are  not  these,  O  Soul,  the  Vision  of  Him  who  reigns  ?  "f 

He  yet  points  us  to 

"  That  true  world  within  the  world  we  see, 
Whereof  our  world  is  but  the  bounding  shore."  $ 

*"The  Holy  Grail."  See  the  curious  account  of  Tenny- 
son's trances,  or  visions,  in  Waugh's  Alfred,  Lord  Tennyton : 
a  Study  of  His  Life  and  Works. 

t "  The  Higher  Pantheism." 

t  DC  Profundis.  ii.  1.     Cf..  also.  "  The  Ancient  Sage." 


482         INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

While  no  recent  English  poet  is  so  versatile  and 
so  broadly  representative  as  Tennyson,  Robert 
Browning  (1812-1889)  has  satisfied,  as  no  other  poet 

has  done,  some  of  the  deepest  spiritual 
Brownine  needs  of  his  generation.  From  the  first 

his  genius  has  been  more  bold,  irregular, 
and  independent  than  that  of  Tennyson  ;  he  has 
been  less  responsive  to  the  changing  moods  of  his 
time.  Indeed,  he  has  rather  proved  its  leader,  taking 
his  own  way,  unmoved  by  praise  or  blame,  and  at 
last  compelling  man}'  to  follow  him.  His  work  is 
highly  charged  with  an  abounding  vigor  and  audac- 
ity characteristic  of  Browning  himself.  Mrs.  On* 
tells  us  that  "  his  consciousness  of  health  was  vivid," 
Bayard  Taylor  speaks  of  his  "  vigor  and  elasticity," 
his  handshake  has  been  compared  to  an  electric 
shock,  and  Mr.  Sharp  speaks  of  his  "  intensely  alive 
hand."  Landor  writes  of  him  in  lines  crowded  with 
suggestion  : 

"  Since  Chaucer  was  alive  and  hale 
No  man  hath  walked  along  our  roads  with  step 
So  active,  so  inquiring  eye,  or  tongue 
So  varied  in  discourse."  * 

Such  allusions  bring  Browning  before  us  as  the  keenly 
observant  man  of  the  world,  alive  to  his  very  finger- 
tips, full  of  that  robust  and  wholesome  capacity  for 
enjoyment  which  we  associate  with  Chaucer,  and 
Shakespeare,  and  Scott,  but  which  among  our  mod- 
ern men  of  letters  is  unfortunately  rare.  A  knowl- 
edge of  Browning's  genial  and  aggressively  active 

*  Sonnet  to  Browning. 


BECENT  WRITERS  483 

personality  is  of  real  value  to  one  who  would  seize 
upon  the  spirit  of  his  work.  It  is  not  an  intrusive 
curiosity,  but  the  spirit  of  the  genuine  student, 
which  leads  us  to  contrast  Browning's  superb  equi- 
poise with  the  lack  of  balance  shown  by  so  many  of 
his  contemporaries  ;  to  set  his  ready  fellowship  with 
men,  his  soundness  of  mind  and  of  body,  beside 
Rossetti's  morbid  life  and  imperfect  human  sym- 
pathies, his  insomnia,  and  his  disordered  nerves. 
Matthew  Arnold  found  a  partial  relief  from  the 
"something  that  infects  the  world"  in  the  patient 
calm  of  nature,  yet  to  his  melancholy  fancy  earth 
and  sky  seemed 

"  To  bear  rather  than  rejoice." 

But  to  Browning's  inextinguishable  hopefulness, 
God's  "ancient  rapture"  in  life,  and  love,  and 
beauty,  is  still  visibly  renewed  in  his  world.*  Like 
the  happy  child  in  Pippa  Passes,  he  sings  in  our  rest- 
less, doubting  century,  with  its  tired  nerves  and 
throbbing  temples,  the  strange  song  of  courage  and 

of  faith. 

"  The  year's  at  the  spring 
And  day's  at  the  morn  ; 
Morning's  at  seven ; 
The  hill-side's  dew-pearled ; 
The  lark's  on  the  -wing  ; 
The  snail's  on  the  thorn  ; 
God's  in  His  Heaven — 
All's  right  with  the  world." 

We -are  refreshed  by  a  wholesome  delight  in  the 
simple   joy  of  living,  that   in  the   thin   intellectual 
*  Paraeei»u»,  act  v. 


484        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

atmosphere  of  our  civilization,  comes  with  a  delicious 
flavor  of  the  antique  world. 

'*  O  our  manhood's  prime  vigor  I  no  spirit  feels  waste, 
Not  a  muscle  is  stopped  in  its  playing,  nor  sinew  unbraced. 

How  good  is  man's  life  the  mere  living,  how  fit  to  employ 
The  heart  and  the  soul  and  the  senses  forever  in  joy.  "  * 

This  strain  of  manly  confidence,  this  overflowing 
force  and  vitality, is  not  faltering  or  exceptional,  it  is 
part  of  Browning's  masculine  and  powerful  genius, 
and  of  his  wholesome  and  happy  life.  Courage  and 
cheerfulness  are  inseparable  from  his  fine  physique, 
his  massive  breadth  of  character,  his  wide  sympa- 
thies with  man  and  nature,  his  hearty  pleasure  in 
physical  and  intellectual  activity.  He  had  a  strange 
fellowship  with  all  living  things,  reaching  down  to 
the  tiny  creatures  of  the  grass  ;  he  loved  mi; sic 
and  painting  and  sculpture,  with  a  love  developed  by 
long  study  and  intimate  knowledge.  The  beauty  of 
Italy,  his  chosen  land,  that  he  declared  was  his  "  uni- 
versity," early  entered  into  his  life  and  art,  and 
besides  all  this  he  found,  what  men  of  genius  rarely 
find,  a  woman  of  fine  nature  and  answering  genius 
capable  of  responding  to  his  highest  moods. 

There  are  few  more  beautiful  love  stories  in  our 
literature  than  this.  In  an  exquisite  series  of  Sonnets, 
probably  her  most  perfect  work,  Elizabeth  Barrett 
has  told  how  Browning  crossed  the  darkened  thresh- 
old of  her  sick  room,  and  how  she  knew  that  it  was 
not  death  which  held  her,  but  love.f  And  in  One 

*  Sa-uL  |  Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese,  L 


RECENT  WRITERS  485 

Word  More,  or  By  the  Fireside,  or  in  that  exalted 
apostrophe  in  The  Ring  and  the  JBook,*  Browning 
pays  an  answering  tribute  to  his  "  moon  of  poets.'* 
In  thinking  of  Browning's  unfaltering  cheerfulness, 
we  must  remember  that  between  his  marriage  to  Miss 
Barrett  in  1846  and  her  death  in  1861,  lay  fifteen 
years,  passed  in  the  inspired  air  of  Florence,  of  com- 
panionship as  perfect  as  it  was  rare.  Browning  has 
been  one  of  the  most  prolific  of  English  poets.  His 
work  covers  more  than  half  a  century  of  almost  inces- 
sant production  (Pauline,  1833 — Asolando,  1889), 
exhibiting  in  sheer  bulk  and  intellectual  vigor  a 
creative  energy  hardly  surpassed  by  any  poet  since 
Shakespeare.  Written  while  England  was  passing 
through  a  time  of  spiritual  despondency  and  fluctu- 
ating faith,  Browning's  poetry  impresses  us  as  some 
great  cathedral,  in  which  every  part  is  duly  subordi- 
nated to  one  symmetrical  design,  and  consecrated  to 
one  ultimate  purpose.  It  is  independent  and  often 
eccentric  in  style  ;  it  is  defiant  of  the  prevailing 
theories  of  art ;  it  rises  solitary,  abrupt,  rugged,  and 
powerful,  from  an  age  of  fluent,  graceful,  and  melodi- 
ous verse. 

Browning,  like  Milton  and  Wordsworth,  comes 
before  us  as  a  teacher,  but  our  first  consideration  is 
naturally  not  the  truth  or  value  of  his  philosophy, 
but  the  poetic  quality  of  his  work.  It  is  as  a  poet 
that  he  has  chosen  to  appeal  to  us,  and  it  is  primarily 
as  poet  and  not  as  philosopher  that  his  work  must 
take  its  place  in  literature.  The  salt  of  poetry  may 

*See  passage  beginning  "  O  lyric  love,"  in  The  Ring  and 
the  Book,  at  the  close  of  bk.  I. 


486       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

preserve  a  poem  the  philosophy  of  which  is  trite  or 
fallacious,  but  it  may  be  questioned  whether  any 
philosophy,  however  noble  or  invigorating,  will  secure 
it  a  permanent  place  in  literature  if  it  lack  the  poetic 
quality.  Looked  at  simply  from  the  art  side,  few 
dispassionate  readers  will  deny  that  Browning's 
poetry  has  serious  defects.  In  many  instances,  more 
especially  in  the  longer  poems,  the  fine  gold  is 
debased  by  an  alloy  of  versified  prose  ;  and  long 
philosophic  arguments,  ingenious,  subtle,  and  some- 
times wearisome,  are  thrust  forward  untransmuted  by 
the  poet's  alchemy.  It  is  probable  that  some  such 
poems,  for  instance  the  Red  Cotton  Nightcap  Country 
(1873),  while  they  may  continue  to  hold  a  formal 
place  in  the  literature,  will  cease  to  be  read  except 
by  the  curious  or  conscientious  student.  If  Brown- 
ing's verse  is  musical,  its  music  is  certainly  different 
from  that  with  which  the  masters  have  made  us 
familiar.  Habitually  spirited,  it  is  often  jolting  and 
abrupt  ;  full  of  parentheses  and  ejaculations,  and 
moving  by  sudden  starts  and  jerks.  To  the  casual 
reader  Browning  often  seems  impatient  of  form  in 
his  anxiety  to  get  the  thing  said  ;  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings seem  crowding  and  jostling  together  for  utter- 
ance, and  he  seems  only  anxious  to  "  hitch  the  thing 
into  verse,"  that  he  may  turn  to  something  new. 
His  rhymes  are  apt  to  be  fantastic  and  ludicrously 
ingenious  to  an  extent  unprecedented  in  serious 
poetry.  The  extravagances  of  Hudibras,  of  Beppo, 
and  of  the  Fable  for  Critics  in  this  direction,  are 
fairly  outdone  by  Browning  in  the  Old  Pictures  in 
Jflorence,  or  in  Pacchiarotto  The  last-named  poem 


BECENT   W111TEB8  48T 

in  particular  is  an  unparalleled  exhibition  of  rhythmi- 
cal gymnastics.  English  is  racked  and  wrenched  to 
the  uttermost,  and  when  it  fails  a  Greek  or  Latin 
word  is  unceremoniously  caught  up  and  thrust  in  to 
take  its  place.  It  must  further  be  admitted  that 
Browning  is  at  times  obscure  to  a  degree  which  even 
the  difficulty  of  his  subject  does  not  justify  ;  but 
this  defect  has  been  dwelt  on  to  weariness,  and 
usually  with  an  unfortunate  exaggeration.  Indeed  a 
very  large  proportion  of  Browning's  poetry  presents 
no  serious  difficulty  to  an  ordinarily  attentive  and 
unprejudiced  reader ;  the  complaint  of  obscurity 
comes  most  loudly  from  those  whose  knowledge  of 
his  work  is  slight,  or  from  those  who  are  so  out  of 
sympathy  with  his  spirit  that  they 

"  endure 
No  light,  being  themselves  obscure." 

Such  obvious  features  of  Browning's  art  have  exposed 
it  to  an  unfavorable  criticism  in  which  there  is  un- 
doubtedly a  proportion  of  truth.  On  the  other  hand 
many  unacquainted  with  Browning's  theory  of  art 
have  been  confident  that  he  had  missed  his  mark 
when  he  had  only  failed  to  hit  their  mark,  at  which, 
in  fact,  he  had  never  aimed.  In  an  age  when  finish, 
smoothness,  and  melody  are  made  the  primary  requi- 
sites in  poetry,  our  taste  is  naturally  repelled  by  work 
distinguished  by  excellence  of  a  very  different  order. 
We  must  remember  that  taste  in  such  matters  is 
largely  influenced  by  custom,  and  that  the  generation 
trained  to  delight  in  the  heroic  couplet  found  even 
the  blank  verse  of  Milton  intolerably  harsh.  In  a 


488       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

word,  Browning's  artistic  merits  are  those  which,  as 
they  are  novel,  we  have  not  been  trained  to  appre- 
ciate ;  his  defects  are  too  often  those  to  which  train- 
ing has  made  us  the  most  sensitive.  To  enjoy 
Tennyson's  work  but  little  preparation  was  needed  ;. 
the  traditions  of  poetry  were  with  him,  and  he  com- 
pleted or  enlarged  what  others  had  begun.  But 
Browning  has  sought  to  conquer  new  regions  for  his 
art ;  like  Wordsworth  he  has  come  distinctly  as  an 
innovator,  and  as  such  is  within  Wordsworth's  rule 
that  every  great  and  original  poet  must  first  create 
the  taste  by  which  he  is  to  be  enjoyed. 

It  is  doubtful  whether  Browning's  purely  poetic 
merit  is  even  yet  fully  appreciated.  He  has  a 
marvelous  accuracy  of  observation,  painting  the 
revealing  details  of  a  situation  with  a  phenomenal 
truth  and  vividness.  In  much  descriptive  poetry 
beauty  is  gained  at  the  expense  of  truth  and  reality  ; 
in  Browning  beauty  is  habitually  subordinated  to 
truth  and  power. 

"  A  tap  at  the  pane,  the  quick,  sharp  scratcli 
And  blue  spirt  of  a  lighted  match, 
And  a  voice  less  loud  thro'  its  joys  and  fears 
Than  the  two  hearts  beating  each  to  each."  * 

These  lines  may  not  impress  us  as  beautiful,  but 
we  must  recognize  in  them  a  precision  in  the  use  of 
words,  a  felicitous  correspondence  of  sound  and 
sense,  which  marks  the  master  of  style.  Again,  the 
description  in  Christmas  Eve  of  the  congregation  in 
the  Methodist  chapel  is  no  more  beautiful  than  an 
*  "Meeting  at  Nicht" 


RECENT  WRITERS  489 

interior  by  Teniers,  but  it  has  the  same  inimitable 
minuteness  and  fidelit}r.  In  the  same  way  Brown- 
ing's metaphors,  while  unusually  original  and  ex- 
pressive, are  often  exact  and  striking  rather  than 
beautiful,  being  employed  as  an  actual  help  to  our 
understanding.*  Many  of  Browning's  longer  poems, 
through  the  very  wealth  of  his  resources  and  through 
his  erratic  agility  of  mind,  lack  unity  and  directness  ; 
he  is  perpetually  turned  aside  by  the  chance  encoun- 
ter with  some  tempting  idea,  so  that  we  often  leave 
the  direct  course  for  a  kind  of  zigzag  progress.  On 
the  other  hand,  he  has  given  us  poems,  such,  for 
instance, as  "Martin  Relph"  and  "Ivan  Ivanovitch," 
which  are  masterpieces  of  strong  and  graphic  narra- 
tive. In  one  province  of  poetry  he  is  supreme — the 
dramatic  monologue.f  As  triumphs  of  the  poet's  art 
such  marvelous  productions  as  "  My  Last  Duchess,'* 
"  Andrea  del  Sarto,"  or  <;  Fra  Lippo  Lippi "  stand 
alone.  It  is  as  idle  to  say  that  such  poems  have  not 
the  sweetness  or  melody  of  Tennyson  as  it  would  be  to 
complain  that  the  "  Lotus-Eaters  "  lacks  Browning's 
invigorating  power.  On  such  a  principle  we  might 
condemn  Milton  because  he  could  not  create  a  Fal- 
staff,  or  Shakespeare  because  he  produced  nothing 
similar  to  Paradise  Lost.  But  above  all  we  must 

*  See  in  illustration  of  this  the  metaphors  in  The  Ring  and  the 
Book;  see,  also,  conclusion  to  "Shah  Abbas"  in  Ferishta'i 
Fancies,  where  the  difficulty  of  crossing  a  room  in  the  dark 
without  stumbling  is  likened  to  that  in  entering  the  heart  of 
another  without  the  lamp  of  love  as  a  guide. 

f  A  monologue  or  soliloquy,  dramatic  through  the  presence 
of  some  other  person  than  the  speaker,  a  presence  inferred 
only  from  the  words  of  the  speaker  himself. 


490        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATUBB 

remember  that  Browning's  poems  are  written  in 
accordance  with  what  he  regarded  as  the  true  func- 
tion of  art.  In  his  view  the  highest  office  of  the 
poet,  as  of  other  artists,  was  to  arouse,  to  sting  into 
consciousness,  the  diviner  side  of  man's  nature.  He 
teaches  in  "  Andrea  del  Sarto  "  that  something  more 
than  mere  technical  excellence  is  required  for  the 
production  of  the  highest  art ;  that  it  is  better  for 
the  medium  of  expression  to  give  way  under  the 
strain  of  thought  and  passion  than  for  it  to  be  coldly 
perfect  because  the  soul  is  wanting.*  The  organist 
in  "  Master  Hugues  of  Saxe-Go<Jia  "  turns  dissatisfied 
from  the  intricate,  technical  excellence  of  a  fugue,  to 
Palestrina,  the  composer  who  emancipated  music  from 
pedantic  trammels  and  breathed  into  it  a  new  soul. 
In  "  Old  Pictures  in  Florence  "  we  are  taught  that 
it  is  the  mission  of  art  to  tantalize  by  its  very  incom- 
pleteness, rather  than  to  satisfy  by  its  perfection  and 
repose  ;  that  the  aim  of  the  true  artist  is  to  arouse  a 
longing  for  an  unseen  and  eternal  perfection,  which 
no  earthly  similitude  can  ever  fully  reveal.  Without 
this  moral,  or  spiritual,  element  and  purpose,  art  sinks 
into  a  mere  sensuous  satisfaction  in  color  and  form, 
such  as  that  shown  by  the  corrupt  bishop  who 
ordered  his  tomb  at  St.  Praxed's.  In  the  bishop's 
dying  directions  for  the  adornment  of  his  tomb  we 
see  how  a  refined  delight  in  the  mere  externals  of 
beauty  and  culture  may  go  hand  in  hand  with  the 
moral  depravity  of  a  "  low-thoughted  "  spirit.  One 
may  prefer  Tully's  picked  Latin  to  Ulpian,  glory  in 
the  colors  of  marble  and  jasper,  and  design  a  frieze 
*  Of.  Ruskin'a  Theory  of  Art,  pp.  350-861,  supra. 


RECENT  WRITER*  491 

in  whtch  pagan  nymphs  dance  through  the  most 
sacred  scenes  of  Christian  story,  one  may  do  all 
this  and  only  demonstrate  the  radical  insufficiency  of 
the  purely  aesthetic  view  of  art.* 

Browning,  then,  does  not  set  himself  to  manu- 
facture "poetic confectionery";  strength  and  suggest- 
iveness,  rather  than  beauty,  are  his  primary  objects, 
and  consequently  his  poetry  is  not  cloying  or  relaxing, 
but  bracing,  instinct  to  an  extraordinary  degree  with 
moral  invigoration.  It  is  not  intended  to  be  taken  as 
a  mild  form  of  opiate,  but  to  "sting," as  Browning 
himself  tells  us, "  like  nettle-broth."  f  Looking,  there- 
fore, at  his  poetry  apart  from  its  moral  or  philosophic 
value,  it  appears  that  Browning's  positive  merits  as 
an  artist  have  been  often  undervalued  because  of  the 
novelty  of  his  methods  and  aims  ;  because  his  peculiar 
excellences  are  distinctly  different  from  those  with 
which  the  tone  of  recent  poetry  has  made  us  familiar. 

Browning's  optimism,  of  which  we  have  already 
spoken,  is  not  thoughtless  but  well  grounded.  Like 
Shakespeare,  he  does  not  seek  to  evade 
<he  melancholy  and  perplexing  aspects 
of  life,  but  confronts  and  conquers  the 
specters  of  the  mind.  Like  his  own  "  Cleon,"  his 
sense  of  the  inadequacy  of  life  is  keen,  while  he  sees 
a  "  world  of  capability  for  joy  spread  round  us," 
"tempting  life  to  take."f  Even  his  buoyant  and 

*  "  The  Bishop  orders  his  tomb  at  St.  Praxed's." 
f  See  Epilogue  in  Pacehiarotto,  an  important  poem  as  a  state- 
ment of  Browning's  view  of  his  own  work.    Note  especially 
last  stanza. 
f  Cleon." 


492       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEBATUBE 

healthy  nature  is  stirred  to  the  depths  by  the  bitter 
compulsion  of  his  time.  We  have  compared  him  to 
Chaucer,  but  he  is  Chaucer  surrounded  by  the  subtle- 
ties and  searchings  of  nineteenth  century  thought ;  a 
profound  and  original  genius,  facing  in  deadly  earnest 
men's  "  obstinate  questionings  "  of  life  and  of  death. 
To  Browning  the  only  explanation  of  the  mystery 
and  the  misery  of  this  present  life  is  to  be  found  in 
its  relation  to  a  life  to  come.  His  view  of  life,  like 
that  of  Carlyle,  of  "Wordsworth,  and  of  Tennyson, 
is  essentially  spiritual.  To  him  God,  the  soul,  and 
personal  immortality  are  the  fundamental  and  all- 
important  facts.*  Wordsworth  found  an  intimation 
of  immortality  in  certain  ideas  or  sympathies  innate 
in  the  soul ;  Browning  found  a  similar  intimation  in 
the  soul's  inextinguishable  longings  and  aspirations, 
which  earth  cannot  satisfy  and  which  witness  to 
another  life  as  the  only  adequate  sphere  of  our  ac- 
tivity. In  a  famous  prose  passage  Browning  has 
declared  that  nothing  but  the  soul  "  is  worth  study." 
To  him  it  is  worth  study  because  it  only  of  things 
earthy  will  survive  the  temporal,  because  it  sustains 
a  definite  relation  to  the  eternal  sphere  of  things. 
The  development  of  the  soul  in  this  relation  to  the 
unseen  is  consequently  the  chief  subject  of  Brown- 
ing's work,  as  it  is — in  his  judgment — the  supreme 
interest  of  life.  Familiar  as  this  thought  may  seem 
to  us,  by  making  it  the  essence  of  his  delineation 
of  life,  Browning  has  virtually  created  poetry  of  a 
wholly  new  order.  Shakespeare  is  the  unapproached 

*  See  "  La  Saisaiz  " — passage  beginning,  "  You  have  ques- 
tioned, I  have  answered,"  etc 


RECENT  WRTTEBS  493 

interpreter  of  the  life  of  man  on  earth,  but  in  his 
dramas  life  is  revealed  in  no  vital  or  necessary  rela- 
tion to  a  hereafter  ;  encompassed  by  darkness,  it 
rather  seems  to  us  to  be  "rounded  by  a  sleep." 
Milton,  projecting  himself  in  imagination  into  a  world 
where  Shakespeare  did  not  enter,  has,  on  the  contrary, 
no  real  hold  on  the  common  or  daily  life  of  man.* 
Browning's  purpose  to  show  us  the  seen  in  the  light 
of  the  unseen  is,  almost  as  truly  as  Milton's,  a  thing 
"  unattempted  yet  in  prose  or  rhyme."  Shakespeare 
wrote  in  and  for  a  bustling  world,  and  his  characters 
are  shown  to  us  in  action.  Browning  wrote  when  life 
was  outwardly  more  tame  and  conventional,  and  in- 
wardly more  complex  ;  when  the  chief  interest  of  man 
was  not  action  but  thought.  Accordingly, as  we  might 
expect,  Browning's  dramatic  power  is  of  another 
order  from  that  of  the  Elizabethans  ;  he  has  a  fine 
feeling  for  the  striking  elements  of  a  situation, 
but  his  characters  reveal  themselves  less  through 
action  than  through  thought.  He  is  at  his  best 
when,  in  some  moment  of  spiritual  crisis,  he  makes 
a  soul  describe  its  inmost  nature  ;  he  admits  us  to  the 
inward  struggle,  intellectual  or  moral,  often  leaving 
us  to  infer  its  declaration  in  outward  act.  These 
words  of  George  Eliot,  who  often  worked  like 
Browning  in  this  hidden  region  of  thought,  help 
us  tc  realize  the  peculiar  difficulty  of  the  task  : 
"For  Macbeth's  rhetoric  about  the  impossibility  of 
being  many  opposite  things  in  the  same  moment 
referred  to  tlie  clumsy  necessities  of  action,  and  not  to 
*  See  comparison  of  Milton  and  Sbakeepeare,  pp.  185-186, 
tupra 


494        INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

the  subtle  possibilities  of  feeling.  We  cannot  speak 
a  loyal  word  and  be  meanly  silent,  we  cannot  kill 
and  not  kill  in  the  same  moment ;  but  a  moment  is 
room  wide  enough  for  the  loyal  and  mean  desire,  for 
the  outlash  of  a  murderous  thought  and  the  sharp 
backward  stroke  of  repentance."  * 

An  appreciation  of  Browning's  skill  as  an  inter- 
preter of  such  dubious  or  complex  moods  must  be 
gained  by  repeated  study  of  his  dramatic  monologues. 
We  can  here  only  attempt  to  indicate  some  of  the 
main  points  in  his  teaching. 

As  life  here  is  to  be  looked  at  as  a  preparation  for 
life  hereafter,  and  this  world  as  the  divinely  appointed 
forcing  house  of  the  soul,  experiences  are  important 
chiefly  as  they  forward  or  retard  the  soul's  growth. 
Joy  is  one  element  in  the  soul's  development,  for 
Browning's  whole  view  of  life  is  essentially  the 
reverse  of  ascetic  ;  yet  the  more  fully  we  develop 
all  our  faculties,  the  more  inherently  inadequate  life 
becomes.  It  is  through  this  very  inadequacy  that 
the  soul  is  taught  to  set  its  affections  elsewhere.  In 
Browning  emotion  is  one  great  agency  in  breaking 
up  our  narrow  and  complacent  contentment.  He 
teaches  us  to  prize  moments  of  intense  feeling  and 
aspiration — moments  like  that  in  which  "  Abt  Vogler  " 
was  enabled  through  music  to  transcend  our  tem- 
poral limitations — as  times  of  escape  when  the  soul 
learns  to  breathe  in  a  purer  air.  It  is  the  mission  of 
the  artist,  the  supreme  expressor  and  interpreter  of 
emotion,  to  awaken  such  aspiration,  and  hence  the 
necessity — according  to  Browning's  view— of  soul. 
*  Daniel  Deronda,  vol.  i.  chap.  IT. 


BECENT  WRITERS  495 

and  stimulus  to  soul,  in  the  truest  art.  So,  earthly- 
love  may  prove,  as  in  "  By  the  Fireside,"  a  high  emo- 
tion which  shall  forward  the  soul's  progress  ;  and  so, 
too,  as  in  "  Youth  and  Art,"  the  sacrifice  of  it  to  sor- 
did ambition  may  stunt  the  spiritual  progress  of  two 
lives.  Browning  is  thus  not  only  original  and  daring 
in  method,  but  in  aim  ;  and  whatever  we  may  think 
of  the  poetic  quality  of  his  work,  his  view  of  life  is 
the  most  spiritual  and  stimulating  of  any  English 
poet,  not  excepting  Milton. 

The  great  mass  of  Browning's  work  makes  any 
more  specific  criticism  of  it  impossible  here.  It  is 
doubtful  whether  in  any  one  of  Brown- 
ing's dramas  he  really  meets  the  require-  royn 
ments  of  the  stage  ;  yet,  while  he  is  not 
a  dramatist,  a  large  proportion  of  his  poems,  mono- 
logues, idyls,  or  lyrics,  are  as  distinctly  dramatic  in 
spirit  as  in  form.  As  closet  dramas  his  plays  have 
conspicuous  merit,  but  as  a  rule  his  best  work  is 
found  in  his  shorter  poems.  Men  and  Women  (1855) 
contains  many  of  the  best  of  these,  but  characteristic 
masterpieces  are  scattered  through  his  books,  down 
to  "  Rephan  "  in  Asolando  (1889).  The  Ring  and  the 
Book  (1868),  a  huge  psychological  epic  of  more  than 
twenty-one  thousand  lines,  remains,  after  all  deduc- 
tions, one  of  the  most  considerable  and  surprising 
poetic  achievements  of  the  century.  "We  have 
spoken  of  this  poem  as  an  epic,  but  only  for  lack  of 
an  exacter  word  ;  in  reality  it  is  rather  a  series  of 
dramatic  monologues  in  which  the  same  story  is 
retold  by  different  speakers  ;  it  is  epic  only  by  its 
length  and  by  the  underlying  unity  of  its  design. 


496       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Browning's  most  ambitious,  if  not  his  greatest  work, 
is  thus  a  modification  of  his  chosen  poetic  form. 

With  an  intellectual  force  comparable  to  Dryden's, 
a  moral  ardor  equal  to  that  of  Milton,  Browning,  too, 
is  poet  as  well  as  thinker  and  teacher.  He  is  no 
mere  reasoner  in  verse,  but  the  most  profoundly  pas- 
sionate singer  of  his  time.  Through  all  his  work 
there  shines  the  noble  spirituality,  the  marvelous 
subtlety,  the  strenuous  earnestness  of  a  great  nature. 
Back  of  all  stands  the  man,  Robert  Browning,  who 
sings  of  himself  in  words  which  are  at  once  an  epi- 
taph and  a  closing  song  of  triumph,  as 

"  One  who  never  turned  his  back  but  marched  breast  forward, 
Never  doubted  clouds  would  break, 

Never  dreamed,  tho'  right  were  worsted,  wrong  would  tri- 
umph, 

Held  we  fall  to  rise,  are  baffled  to  fight  better,  sleep  to 
wake."  * 

Thus  in  this  great  English  poet  of  our  own  day  we 
find  that  deep  religious  earnestness,  that  astounding 
force,  which  we  noted  in  those  obscure  English  tribes 
who  nearly  fifteen  centuries  ago  began  to  possess 
themselves  of  the  island  of  Britain.  It  is,  indeed, 
this  sound  and  vigorous  character  of  the  English 
race,  underlying  all  the  long  centuries  of  its  literary 
history,  which  gives  a  profound  unity  to  all  it  has 
created.  Browning's  "  Prospice,"  that  dauntless  chal- 
lenge to  death  from  one  who  "  was  ever  a  fighter," 
repeats,  in  its  cadence  and  spirit,  poetry  that  comes  to 
us  from  the  dimly  seen  and  far-off  childhood  of  our 
*  Epilogue  in  Asolando,  Browning's  last  poem. 


RECENT  WRITERS  497 

race.  If  in  the  nineteenth  century  we  have  bartered 
and  sold,  and  offered  sacrifice  to  the  Britannia  of  the 
market-place,  it  is  still  true  that  the  great  problems 
of  existence  have  never  been  dwelt  on  with  more 
earnestness,  that  the  greatest  voices  of  the  literature 
have  called  us  with  a  new  ardor  to  the  eternal  and  the 
unseen. 

Henry  Morley  reminds  us  that  the  opening  lines  of 
Caedmon's  Creation,  the  first  words  of  English  litera- 
ture on  English  soil,  are  words  of  praise  to  the 
Almighty  Maker  of  all  things.  After  reviewing  in 
outline  the  long  and  splendid  history  of  the  literature 
thus  solemnly  begun,  we  find  in  the  two  greatest 
poet  voices  of  our  own  day,  Alfred  Tennyson  and 
Robert  Browning,  the  note  of  an  invincible  faith,  an 
undiminished  hope  ;  we  find  them  affirming,  in  the 
historic  spirit  of  the  English  race, 

"  Thy  soul  and  God  stand  sure." 

STUDY  LISTS  AND  EEFERENCES 
I.  STUDY  OP  SEPARATE  AUTHORS 

Macaulay.  (a)  The  essays  on  "  Clive,"  "  Warren  Hast- 
ings," "Chatham,"  "Johnson,"  "Goldsmith,"  and  "Addi- 
son "  may  be  mentioned  as  among  the  many  with  which 
the  student  should  be  familiar.  The  Historical  Essays  of 
Macaulay,  and  The  Select  Essays  of  Macaulay ,  both  edited  with 
notes  by  Samuel  Thurber,  are  strongly  recommended  for 
school  use.  A  number  of  the  essays  can  be  obtained  separately 
in  Harpers'  Half  Hour  Series.  For  study  of  Macaulay's 
poetry,  Rolfe's  edition  of  the  Lays  of  Ancient  Rome,  with  notes 
and  introduction,  will  be  found  convenient. 

(b)  BIOGRAPHY  AKJ>  CRITICISM.    Trevelyan's  Life  of,  2  vols.; 


498       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

Minto's  Manual  of  English  Prose  •  Matthew  Arnold's  Mixed 
Essays,  p.  179  ;  Life  of,  by  J.  Cotter  Morrison,  English  Men 
of  Letters  Series  ;  Literary  Studiet  (Macaulay),  by  Walter 
Bagehot. 

Carlyle.  (a)  The  length  of  many  of  Carlyle's  best  books, 
and  in  some  cases  their  difficulty,  make  him  comparatively 
unavailable  for  study  in  an  ordinary  course.  The  follow- 
ing selections  have  been  chosen  from  his  shorter  and  more 
available  works — Essays  :  "  Burns,"  "  Johnson,"  "  Richter  "  ; 
Inaugural  address  at  Edinburgh,  On  the  Choice  of  Books.  The 
following  works  may  be  read  entire  or  in  part ;  Heroes  and 
Hero  Worship,  Sartor  Resartus,  Past  and  Present. 

(b)  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.  Bayne's  Lessons  from  my 
Masters  ;  A.  H.  Japp's  Three  Great  Teacfiers  of  Our  Own  Time  ; 
Masson's  Carlyle,  Personally  and  in  his  Writings ;  Garnett's 
Life  of,  in  Great  Writers  Series,  and  NichoPs  Life  of,  in  English 
Men  of  Letters  Series  ;  Some  Personal  Reminiscences  of, 
by  A.  J.  Symington  ;  Minto's  Manual  of  EnglisJi  Prose,  for 
study  of  Carlyle's  style ;  J.  R.  Lowell's  My  Study  Windows 
(Carlyle) ;  R.  H.  Hutton,  Modern  Guides  of  English  Thought 
in  Matters  of  Faith  (Thomas  Carlyle).  For  more  extended 
study  of  his  life,  v.  the  Carlyle  and  Emerson  Correspondence, 
Letters,  and  the  Reminiscences,  all  edited  by  Charles  Eliot 
"  Norton,  and  Froude's  Life  (4  vols.  in  all). 

Ruskin.  (a)  An  Introduction  to  the  Writings  of  John 
Ruskin,  by  Vida  D.  Scudder.  This  is  that  very  rare  thing,  a 
good  book  of  selections.  It  contains  introduction,  biographi- 
cal sketch,  notes,  etc.,  and  is  admirably  adapted  for  class  use 
when  works  can  only  be  studied  through  extracts.  Sesame 
and  Lilies  (fine  in  pkces,  but  full  of  exaggerations,  false 
criticism,  and  inconsistency) ;  The  Crown  of  Wild  Olive ; 
Lectures  on  Work,  Traffic,  and  War  ;  Time  and  Tide  ;  Letters 
on  the  Laws  of  Work;  Fors  Clamgera,  Letters  v.  and  viii. ; 
Modern  Painters,  part  iii.  sect.  1,  chap.  xv. ;  "  The  Theoretic 
Faculty,  Ibid.,  sect.  2;  "The  Imaginative  Faculty,"  chaps. 
i.-v. 

(b)  BIOGRAPHY  ASD  CRITICISM.     The   Life  and   Work  of 


BECENT  WRITEBS  499 

John  Ruskin,  by  W.  G.  ColHngwood,  2  vols. ;  John  Ruskin  : 
Ms  Life  and  Teachings,  by  J.  Marshall  Mather ;  Record*  of 
Tennyson,  Ruskin  and  Browning,  by  Anna  Thackeray  Ritchie ; 
Pi-eterita:  Scenes  of  My  Past  Life,  by  John  Ruskin.  A.  H. 
Japp's  Three  Great  Teachers  (Ruskin) ;  Bayne's  Lessons  from 
my  Masters  (Ruskin) ;  The  Work  of  John  Ruskin :  its  Influence 
upon  Modern  Thought  and  Life,  by  Charles  "Waldstein. 

Matthew  Arnold,  (a)  STUDY  OP  WORKS— Poetry.  "  Swit 
zerland — 4.  Isolation,  5.  To  Marguerite,  6.  Absence ;" 
"Dover  Beach,"  "The  Scholar-gipsy,"  "  Thyrsis,"  "Stanzas 
from  the  Grande  Chartreuse,"  "  Tristram  and  Iseult,"  "  Sohrab 
and  Rustuin,"  "The  Forsaken  Merman."  Sonnets — "  Shake- 
speare," "Worldly  Place,"  "The  Good  Shepherd  with  the 
Kid." 

Prose.  "  The  Function  of  Criticism."  in  Essays  in  Criticism, 
First  Series  ;  "  The  Study  of  Poetry,"  aud  "  Milton,"  in  Ibid., 
Second  Series  ;  "  Celtic  Literature."  Extracts  from  Arnold's 
prose,  with  admirable  introduction,  are  given  in  Edward  T. 
McLaughlin's  Literary  Criticism. 

(b)  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.  A  brief  sketch  of  life  will 
be  found  in  Men  of  the  Time  ;  v.  also  for  biography  A.  Lang's 
article  on  "  Matthew  Arnold,"  in  Century  Magazine,  1881-1882, 
p.  849.  "  The  Poetry  of  Matthew  Arnold,"  in  Essays  Theo- 
logical and  Literary,  vol.  ii.,  by  R.  H.  Hutton,  and  "Matthew 
Arnold,"  by  the  same  author  in  his  Modern  Guides  of  English 
Tfiought  in  Matters  of  Faith.  "  Culture,"  a  "Dialogue,"  in 
The  Choice  of  Books  and  other  Essays,  by  Frederic  Harrison 
(a  reply  to  Arnold's  Culture  and  Anarchy  ;  r>.  also  on  same  sub- 
ject Shairp's  Religion  and  Culture) ;  Stedman's  Victorian  Poets 
(Arnold) ;  "  Matthew  Arnold  ;  New  Poems,"  in  Essays  and 
Studies,  by  A.  C.  Swinburne  ;  Forman's  Our  Living  Poett 
(Arnold) ;  Sharp's  Victorian  Poets  (Arnold). 

George  Eliot,  (a)  Silas  Marner.  Poem*,  "  Brother  and 
Sister."  (The  above  are  suggested  as  appropriate  for  use  of 
class.  To  select  special  novels  for  reconcmendation  is  obviously 
useless  and  inappropriate). 


500       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

(ft)  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.  Life  of,  by  John  Walter 
Cross,  largely  compiled  from  George  Eliot's  letters,  journals, 
etc.,  is  the  standard  biography.  For  shorter  lives,  v.  Life,  by 
Oscar  Browning,  in  the  Great  Writers  Series,  and  that  by 
Mathilde  Blind,  in  the  Famous  Women  Series.  S.  Parkin- 
'  son's  Scenes  from  tlie  George  Eliot  Country,  partly  biographical, 
gives  interesting  description  of  her  early  surroundings,  and 
traces  their  influence  on  her  work ;  B.  H.  Button's  Modern 
Guides  of  English  Thought  in  Matters  of  Faith  (George  Eliot 
as  an  Author),  also  Hutton's  Essays  in  Literary  Criticism 
(George  Eliot).  Dowden's  Studies  in  Literature  ("  George 
Eliot,"  and  "  Middlemarch  and  Daniel  Deronda");  Lanier's 
The  English  Novel  (passages  on  George  Eliot).  The  Ethics  oj 
George  Eliot,  by  John  Crombie  Brown,  is  a  most  interesting 
and  important  contribution  to  the  subject,  v.  also  George 
Eliot's  Two  Marriages,  by  Rev.  Charles  G.  Ames. 

Alfred  Tennyson.  (A)  STUDY  OP  WORKS. — 1.  Poems 
illustrative  of  Tennyson's  life  or  art.  (a)  "  Claribel,"  "  Nothing 
will  die,"  "  Lilian,"  two  songs  on  "The  Owl,"  "Madeline," 
etc.  Compare  these  with  Tennyson's  later  manner.  Consider 
importance  attached  by  him  to  technique.  Look  up  state  of 
English  poetry  in  1830.  Tennyson's  influence  on  form.  ( V. 
Stedman's  Victorian  Poets.)  Compare  early  metrical  experi- 
ments of  Milton,  etc. 

(b)  Natural  descriptions  in  Tennyson.  Poems  suggestive 
of  particular  localities.  "Mariana,"  "The  Dying  Swan," 
"The  Brook,"  "  The  Miller's  Daughter,"  and  natural  descrip- 
tions scattered  throughout  his  work.  For  interesting  study 
of  this  whole  subject  see  Tlie  Laureate's  Country,  by  A.  J. 
Church  (1891) ;  In  Tennyson  Land,  by  J.  Cumming  Walters  ; 
"Lincolnshire  Scenery  and  Character  as  Illustrated  by  Mr. 
Tennyson,"  Macmillan's  Magazine,  November  and  April,  1873- 
1874,  and  Homes  and  Haunts  of  the  British  Poets,  by  William 
Howitt ;  Phillips'  Manual  of  English  Literature,  vol.  ii. 

2.  Tennyson's  Theory  of  Art.—'1  The  Palace  of  Art,"  "  The 
Day  Dream  (Moral  and  L'Envoi),"  "The  Flower,"  "The 
Poet,"  "  The  Poet's  Mind."  In  connection  with  "  The  Palace 


RECENT  WRITERS  501 

of  Art "  the  whole  question  of  the  relative  value  of  the  moral 
or  ethical,  and  the  aesthetic  elements  in  a  poem  or  -work  of 
art  can  be  appropriately  considered.  Of.  views  of  Milton, 
Wordsworth,  Keats,  Ruskin,  William  Morris,  and  Browning  ; 
for  latter,  t>.  p.  412  et  seq.  Moral  earnestness  as  a  characteristic 
element  in  English  literature  ;  v.  Leslie  Stephen's  essay  on 
Wordsworth's  Ethics  in  Hours  in  a  Library,  Third  Series  ;  The 
Gay  Science,  by  E.  S.  Dallas  ;  J.  A.  Symonds'  article,  "  Is  Poetry 
at  Bottom  a  Criticism  of  Life?  "  in  Essays  Speculative  and  Sug- 
yestite,  vol.  ii. 

3.  Tennyson  as  a  Teacher,    (a)  Ideas  of  democracy  and  social 
reform  :  class  distinctions  as  a  bar  to  marriage,  etc.     "  The 
Gardener's  Daughter,"  "The  Miller's  Daughter,"  "Locksley 
Hall,"  "  Aylmer's  Field,"  "  Lady  Clara  Vere  de  Vere,"  "  Lady 
Clare,"    "The    Beggar    Maid,"    "Maud."     Cf.   Browning's 
"  Youth  and  Art."    (b)  Political  poems,  "You  Ask  Me  Why 
tho*  111  at  Ease,"  "  Of  Old  Sat  Freedom  on  the  Heights,"  and 
"  Love  Thou  Thy  Land  "  ;  and  in  general  for  Tennyson's  atti- 
tude to  his  time,  "  Locksley  Hall,"  and  "  Locksley  Hall  Sixty 
Ytars  After."    Study  in  this  connection :  Reform  agitations 
in  England  from  1815  to  Reform  Bill,  1832 ;  changes  wrought 
by  science  ;  social  changes,   Chartists,   Corn  Laws,  etc.     Cf. 
political  attitude  of  Tennyson  with  that  of  Shelley  and  Byron. 
Fov  effect  of  recent  inventions  compare  with  second  "  Locks- 
tey  Hall,"  Ruskin's  Sesame  and  Lilies  and  Queen  of  the  Air, 
Frederic  Harrison's  essay  on  "The  Nineteenth  Century,"  in 
The  Choice  of  Books.    For   Tennyson's  use   of  science,  t>. 
Dowden's  Studies  in  Literature  ;  Shairp's  Poetic  Interpretation 
of  Nature,  lect.  iii.,  iv. ;  Stedman's  Victorian  Poets,  introduc- 
tion; "Effect  of  Scientific  Temper  in  Modern  Poetry,"  two 
articles  by  Vida  D.   Scudder,  Andorer  Review,  September, 
October,  1887. 

4.  The  Idylls  of  the  King.      The  following  Idylls  are  sug- 
gested as  the  most  essential  to  an  understanding  of  the  design 
of  the  entire  work  :    "  The  Coming  of  Arthur,"  "  Gareth  and 
Lynette,"  "  The  Holy  Grail,"  "  Guinevere,"  "  The  Passing  of 
Arthur,"  "  Epilogue." 

6    In  Mem&riam.    A  Key  to  Tennyson's  In  Memoriam,  by 


502       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITEBATUBE 

Alfred  Gatty  ;  Genung's  Tennyson's  In  Memoriam :  Its  Purpose 
and  Structure;  Davidson's  Prolegomena  to  In  Memoriam. 

(B)  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM:.  Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson, 
a  Memoir,  by  his  son.  A.  Waugh's  Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson: 
A  Study  of  His  Life  and  Work,  is  a  most  satisfactory 
biography.  H.  J.  Jennings'  Alfred  Tennyson  is  shorter,  but 
also  good.  See  also  Howitt's  Haunts  and  Homes  of  the 
British  Poets,  and  Phillips'  Manual  of  English  Literature, 
vol.  ii.  (Tennyson);  Records  of  Tennyson,  Ruskin  and  Brown- 
ing, by  Anne  Thackeray  Ritchie;  Dowden's  Studies  in 
Literature  (for  a  most  penetrating  comparative  study  of 
Tennyson  and  Browning);  Jiipp's  Tliree  Great  Teachers; 
Bayne's  Lessons  from  my  Masters;  Bagehot's  Literary  Studies 
(comparison  of  Wordsworth,  Tennyson,  and  Browning) ; 
Brooke's  Tennyson,  his  Art  and  Relation  to  Modern  Life. 

Bobert  Browning.  (A)  STUDY  OP  WORKS.  I.  Andrea,  del 
Sarto.  (a)  The  situation  ;  it  is  a  dramatic  monologue  (b)  The 
harmony  of  the  situation  with  the  spiritual  atmosphere  of  the 
poem;  it  is  "a  twilight  piece."  Other  instances  of  use  of 
"dramatic  background, "v.  Shakespeare  Study  List,  §  5  b.  (c) 
The  character  of  Andrea.  A  "  half -man."  The  weakness 
which  makes  him  constantly  seek  to  shift  the  responsibility  for 
his  misdoings  on  fate  or  chance  All  is  "as  God  o'er-rules." 
Andrea  has  the  kind  of  nature,  the  artistic  susceptibility  to 
sensuous  beauty,  joined  with  a  lack  of  moral  fiber  and  a  weak- 
ness of  will,  which  would  make  him  a  ready  prey  to  such  a 
woman  as  Lucrezia.  (d)  The  character  of  Lucrezia.  The  skill 
with  which  it  is  shown  reflected  in  Andrea's  words  and  life. 
Her  selfishness  ;  sordid  love  of  money  ;  utter  lack  of  feeling  for 
art  except  as  a  money-making  agency ;  her  treachery  and 
duplicity  ;  her  marvelous  but  unspiritual  beauty,  (e)  The  art 
teaching  of  the  poem  ;  technical  perfection  insufficient  for  the 
production  of  the  highest  art.  "  A  man's  reach  must  exceed 
his  grasp,  or  what's  a  heaven  for."  Art  may  suffer  from 
moral  flaws  in  the  character  of  the  artist.  Of.  Tennyson's 
"  Theory  of  Art,"  Tennyson  Study  List,  §  2 ;  Ruskin's 
"  Theory  of  Art,"  etc. 

II.  Clean,    (a)  The  setting  of  the  poem.     As  in  "  Andrea  del 


KriCENT  WRITHES  503 

ttarto, "  tne  note  is  struck  at  the  outset.  Here  It  Is  a  background 
of  Greek  beauty  and  grace  worthy  of  Alma  Tadema.  ("  The 
portico  royal  with  sunset,"  "  The  lyric  woman  in  her  crocus 
vest,"  etc.)  (4)  Cleon  the  heir  to  all  the  treasures  of  Greek 
civilization,  (c)  Cleon's  dissatisfaction  with  life  arises  from 
his  finding  it  "  inadequate  to  joy."  Cf.  the  cause  of  dissatisfac- 
tion in  "  The  Epistle  of  Karshish,"  and  in  "Saul  "  with  that 
of  Cleon.  The  argument  for  future  life  in  these  and  other 
poems :  (1)  The  inadequacy  of  this  life  implies  another. 
(2)  The  misery  of  this  life  can  only  be  reconciled  with  the 
harmonious  design  elsewhere  observable  in  nature,  by  con- 
sidering it  as  preparation  for  another. 

III.  OtJier  Poems.  As  Browning  is  a  difficult  author  at  the 
first  approach,  the  following  poems,  to  be  read  in  the  order 
here  given,  are  suggested  as  one  convenient  mode  of  access  : 
1.  Love  poems:  "Evelyn  Hope";  "By  the  Fireside"; 
"One  Word  More";  "The  Last  Ride  Together";  "Love 
Among  the  Ruins."  2.  Narrative :  "  Martin  Relph " ; 
"Muleykeh";  "  Iv&n  Ivanovitch  " ;  "The  Flight  of  the 
Duchess";  "  Clive."  3.  Art  poems:  "My  Last  Duchess"; 
"  Andrea  del  Sarto  " ;  "  Fra  Lippo  Lippi " ;  "  Pictor  Ignotus  "  ; 
"A  Toccatta  of  Galluppi's";  "Master  Hugues  of  Saxe- 
Gotha"  ;  "  Abt  Vogler."  4.  Dramas  :  "  Luria";  "A  Blot  in  the 
'Scutcheon";  "Paracelsus."  5.  Immortality  and  Religion: 
"  Rabbi  Ben  Ezra  "  ;  "  Epistle  of  Karshish  "  ;  "  Cleon  " ; 
"  Prospice"  ;  "  Saul "  ;  "  A  Death  in  the  Desert " ;  "  Christmas 
Eve,"  and  "Easter  Day";  "Rephan."  6.  Longer  poems: 
"  The  Ring  and  the  Book/' 

(B)  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.  Sharp's  Life  of  Browning 
is  the  best  that  has  yet  appeared.  Mrs.  Orr's  Life  (2  vols.)  is 
longer  and  contains  much  information  not  to  be  found  else- 
where; it  is  unsatisfactory  in  its  criticisms,  and  unreliable  in 
its  statements  as  to  Browning's  religious  belief.  See  also 
Letters  of  Robert  Browning  and  Elizabeth  Barrett  (1899). 
Dowden's  Studies  in  Literature  contains  one  of  the  best  and 
most  compact  statements  of  the  central  motive  of  Browning's 
poetry.  Among  the  many  Introductions  to  Browning,  Alex- 
ander's Poetry  of  Robe*  Browning,  and  Symons'  Study  of 
Browning,  may  be  mentioned. 


504       INTRODUCTION  TO  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

H.  GENERAL  NOTES  AND  REFERENCES  FOR 
RECENT  PERIOD. 

1.  HISTOKY.     For  general  history  of  the  time  to  the  acces- 
sion of  Queen  Victoria,  see  Fyffe's  History  of  Modern  Europe, 
3  vols.,  or,  for  general  historical  outline,  Fisher's  Outlines  of 
Universal  History,  or  Myers'  Mediaeval  and  Modern  History,  may 
be  used.     For  England,  Bright's  History  of  (vol.  iv.  cornea 
down  to  1880) ;  Spencer  Walpole's  History  of  England  since 
1815  ;  Oscar  Browning's  Epochs  of  Modern  History.     See,  also, 
for  interesting  study  of  English  colonization,  Seeley's  Expan- 
sion of  England  ;  for  industrial  changes,  Gibbins'  Industrial 
History  of  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century  ;  for  Parliamen- 
tary history,  Spencer  Walpole's  The  Electorate  and  the  Legisla- 
ture,  in    The  English  Citizens   Series.     For   Victorian  Age 
consult,  also,  McCarthy's  History  of  Our  Own  Times,  2  vols., 
and  McCarthy's  England  under  Gladstone,  also  The  Reign  of 
Queen  Victoria,  edited  by  T.  H.  Ward,  2  vols.,  which  contains 
a  good  chapter  on  Victorian  literature. 

2.  LITERARY  HISTORY  AND  CRITICISM.     For  general  literary 
movements  of  the  time,  Dowden's  Studies  in  Literature,  and 
Dowden's  Transcripts  and  Studies,  will  be  found  especially 
helpful.     A  comparison  of  Elizabethan  with  Victorian  poetry 
will  be  found  in  J.  A.  Symonds'  Essays  Speculative  and  Sug- 
gestive, vol.  ii.     Shairp's  Poetic  Interpretation  of  Nature  includes 
careful  study  of  the  increase  of  feeling  for  nature  in  English 
eighteenth  century  poetry  ;  on  this  see  also  Stopford  Brooke's 
TJieology  in  the  English  Poets.     For  general  survey  of  the 
literature  of  the  period,  Stedman's    Victorian  Poets,  Henry 
Morley's  Literaturein  the  Age  of  Victoria,  and  Sharp's  Victorian 
Poets.     Mrs.  Oliphant's  Literary  History  of  England  in  tJie  End 
of  the  Eighteenth  and  Beginning  of  the  Nineteenth  Centuries  is 
rather  a  series  of  short  and  critical  studies  than  a  history  of 
the  literary  period  of  which  it  treats.    Her  more  recent  book 
on  Victorian  Literature  contains  much  biographical  informa- 
tion.    De  Quincey  has  many  essays  on  the  great  authors  of 
his  time,  and  Bagehot's  Literary  Studies,?,  vols.,  will  be  found 
of  value. 


APPENDIX 


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TABLE  I.—  ENGLISH  LITERATUI 

(GENERAL  TABLE  OF  THE  FOUR  PERIODS) 

—The  Formation  of  the  Language,  61 

1.  Before  the  Norman  Conquest. 
a.  The  Northumbrian  Writers.  670-800  or  825. 
Beowulf  (time  and  place  or  composition  unce 
Caedmon. 
Bede. 
Cynewulf. 
ft.  The  Revival  of  Letters  in  Wessex,  880-1066. 
King  Alfred,  849-901. 
DuiiBtan,  924  or  925-968. 

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3  j  : 

Celtic  (Welsh)  Literature  enters  England 

Geoffrey  of  Monmonth's  "  History  of  Britain,"  1147 
Walter  Map  continues  Arthurian  Legends,  Twelfth 
Layamon's  Brut,  1205. 
(See  Table  III.) 
ffrey  Chancer,  and  Union  of  English  and  Norman. 
Chaucer  turns  from  French  to  Italian  Literature,  cir.  1 
Triumph  of  Knglinh  language  over  French. 
(See  Table  V.,  "  Chaucer's  Century.") 

(See  Table  II.) 
2.  After  the  Norman  Conquest  (1066-1400). 
English. 
Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle  to  death  of 
Stephen,  1154. 
"  The  Owl  and  the  Nightingale." 
Popular  Songs  and  Ballads. 
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Colleges  founded,  Introd 
b.  In  Literature. 
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Benoit  de  St.  Maun 

"Roman  de  Troie." 

Walter  Map,  (?)-181 

"  Golias  Episcopus." 
"  Launcelot  du  Lac." 
"  Qnepte  de  St.  Graal 
"  Mort  Artus." 

Roger  Bacon,  1214-: 
"  Opus  Majus,"  1268. 

Matthew  Paris,  1221 
"  Historia  Major." 

Michael  Scott. 

"  Musa  Philosophica. 

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Henry  III.,  1216-1272. 
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Edward  I.,  1272-1307. 

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518  APPENDIX 

TABLE  VII.— RISE  OF  THE  DRAMA— 1110-1566. 


SOVEREIGNS. 


Henry  V.,  1413-1422. 

Henry  VI.,  1422;  died 

1471. 
Wars  of  the  Roses,  1455 

to  1485. 

Edward  IV.,  died  1483. 
Edward  V.,  died  1483. 
Richard  III.,  died  1485. 

Henry  VII.,  1485-1509. 


Henry  VIII.,  1509-1547 


The  first  known  dramatic  production  in  Eng- 
land, the  French  Miracle  play,  "  St.  Kather- 
ine,"  acted  at  Dunstable  about  1110. 

Institution  of  the  Festival  of  Corpus  Christ! 
(1264)  gave  an  impulse  to  performance  of 
plays. 

Street  plays  or  pageants  first  performed  about 
1268. 

Whitsuntide  plays  at  Chester  about  1268;  prob- 
ably in  French  at  this  date. 

East  Midland  play,  "  Abraham  and  Isaac," 
middle  of  fourteenth  century. 

York  cycle  of  plays  about  1340-1360 ;  earliest 
known  MS.,  1430. 

Townley  cycle  of  about  thirty  plays  belonging 
to  Woodkirk  Abbey. 

Coventry  plays,  cir.  fifteenth  or  sixteenth 
centuries. 

Chester  Whitsun-plays,  "Fall  of  Lucifer," 
"  Noah's  Flood,"  etc.,  composed  probably 
early  part  of  fourteenth  century  ;  earliest 
MS.,  1581. 

Morality  Plays:  "Play  of  Paternoster,"  prob- 
ably in  Edward  III.'s  reign.  Oldest  extant 
morality  plays,  "  The  Castle  of  Constancy," 
etc.,  in  reign  of  Henry  VI. 

INTERLUDES : 

John  Heywood,  1506  (?-)1565. 

"  The  Four  P's,"  about  1520. 

Earliest  extant  regular  comedy, 

Nicholas  Udal,  1504  (?)-1557  (?). 

"Ralph   Roister   Doister"    (acted   cir.   1551), 

(published  1566). 
"  Gammer  Gurton's  Needle,"  by  Bishop  Still, 

about  1566. 

Thomas  Sackville,  1536-1608. 
"  Ferrex  and  Porrex,"  or  the  Tragedy  of  "Gor- 

boduc,"  played  1561,  printed  in  1565. 


APPENDIX 


519 


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APPENDIX 


527 


TABLE  XI.— THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  NOVEL 


PRECURSORS  Or  THE  NOVEL. 

Early  Epics.    Beowulf. 

Mediaeval  Cycles  of  Romance. 
Arthurian  Romances ;  Charle- 
magne Romances ;  "  Life  of 
Alexander  ; "  "  Siege  of  Troy." 
(By  the  end  of  the  fourteenth 
century  these  had  become  popu- 
lar in  English.)  Spanish, "  Ama- 
dis  de  Gaul ;  "  Teutonic,  "  Nibe- 
lungenlie'i.  . 

The  Metrical  Romance  was  an 
important  literary  form  from  the 
Norman  Conquest  to  Chaucer  ; 
e.  g.,  "  Romance  of  SirTristrem, 
versified  dr.  1270  ;  "  Havelok  the 
Dane,"  ctr.1270-80;  "King  Horn," 
dr.  1280  ;  "  Guy  of  Warwick  ; " 
"  Sir  Isnmbras,"  etc.  (Many 
Metrical  Romances  were  retold  in 
prose.) 

Latin  Prose  Tales.  "Gesta  Ro- 
manorum."  (Compiled  early  in 
the  fourteenth  century;  translated 
into  English  prose  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  VI.) 

Prose  Romances.  Malory,  "Morte 
D'Arthnr,"cir.  1470,  printed  1485. 
(Other  Romances  were  translated 
and  printed  by  Caxton,  and  later 
by  Wyukyn  de  Worde.) 

ELIZABETHAN   ROMANCES. 

(Italian  Influence.) 
More.    "Utopia,"  1516. 
Paynter.     "  Palace  of  Pleasure," 

vol.  i.  1566. 

Lyly.     "  Euphues,"  1579. 
Greene.      '  Mamillia,"  1580. 
Lodge.      'Forbonins  and  Prisce- 

ria,"  1584. 

Greene.      '  Pandosto,"  1588. 
Sidney.      'Arcadia,"  1590. 
Lodge.    '  Rosalind,"  1590. 
Greene.     Cony-catching    paraph- 

lets,  1591-92. 

Nash.    "  Pierce  Penniless,"  1592. 
Nash.      "Unfortunate   Traveler," 

etc.,  1593. 

SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY 
ROMANCES. 

(French  Influence.) 
/Examples  need  not  be  here  given. 


The  Heroic  Romance  lasted  well 
through  the  century.) 

RISE  Or  THE  MODERN  NOVEL. 

Seventeenth-century   Charact'.r- 

writert  : 
Hall.    "  Characters  of  Virtue:.  Jid 

Vices,"  1608. 

Overbury.    "  Characters,"  1614. 
Earle.  "Microcosmography,"  1628. 

Religious  Allegory  : 

Bunyan.     "  Pilgrim's   Progress," 

1678-84. 

Growth  of  Realism  : 
Defoe.  "Apparition  of  Mrs.  Veal," 

1706. 

Sketches  of  Contemporary  Life  : 
Addison  and  Steele.    "  Sir  Roger 
de  Coverley  Papers "  (in  Specta- 
tor, founded  1711). 
Realistic  Narrative  : 
Defoe.    "  Robinson  Crusoe,"  1719- 

20. 

"  Memoirs  of  a  Cavalier,"  1780. 
"  Moll  Flanders,"  1721. 
"ColonelJack,"1721. 
"  Journal  of  the  Plague  Year," 

1722. 

"  Roxana,"  1724. 
Swift.    "Gulliver's Travels,"  1726. 

NOVEL  OF  DOMESTIC  LIFE  BEGINS 
WITH  : 

Richardson.    "  Pamela,"  1740. 
Fielding.      "Joseph     Andrews," 

1742. 

Fielding.   "  Jonathan  Wild,"  1748. 
Sarah  Fielding.  "  David  Simple," 

1744 
Richardson.   "  Clarissa  Harlowe." 

Fielding.  "  Tom  Jone»,"  1749. 

Paltock.*  "  Peter  VVilkin*."  1750. 

Fielding.  "  AmeMa,"  1751. 
Smollett.      "  Peregrine    Pickle. 

Richardson.    "Sir  Charles  Gran- 

dison,"  1758. 
Smollett.       "  Ferdinand,     Count 

Fathom,"  1758. 
Johnson.*    "  Rasselas,"  175ft, 


»  Stories  of  Romance  and  Adventure  In  this  section  are  marked  with  an 
asterisk. 


APPENDIX 


TABLE  XI.-THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  NOVEL—  Cowfd 


Sterne.  "  Tristram  Shandy  "  (voli. 
i.  and  ii.),  1759. 

Walpole.*  "  Castle  of  Otranto," 
1764. 

Goldsmith.  "  The  Vicar  of  Wake- 
fleld,"  U66. 

Mackenzie.*  "  The  Man  of  Feel- 
ing," 1771. 

Smollett.  "  Humphrey  Clinker," 
1771. 

Clara  Reeve.*  "The  Old  English 
Baron,"  1777. 

Frances  Burney.  "Evelina,"  1778. 

Frances  Burney.  "  Cecilia,"  1782. 

Beckford.*    "  Vathek,"  1784. 

KEVIVAL  OP  ROMANTICISM. 

(German  Influence.) 

Ann  Radcliffe.*  "  Castles  of  Ath- 
lin  and  Dnnbayne,"  1789. 

Ann  RadclifFe.*  "  A  Sicilian  Ro- 
mance," 1790. 

Godwin.    "  Caleb  Williams,"  1794. 

Ann  Radcliffe.*  " The  Mysteries 
of  Udolpho,"  1794. 


M.  G.  Lewis.*  "The  Monk," 
1795. 

Ann  Radcliffe.*  "The  Italian," 
1797. 

Lamb.    "  Rosamond  Grey,"  1798. 

M.  G.  Lewis.*  "  Tales  of  Terror," 
1799. 

Maria  Edgeworth.  "Castle Rack- 
rent,"  1800. 

Maria  Edgeworth.  "Moral 
Tales,"  1801. 

M.  G.  Lewis.*  "Tales  of  Won- 
der," 1801. 

Jane  Porter.*  "  Thaddeus  of 
Warsaw,"  1808. 

Maturin.*  "  The  Fatal  Revenge," 
1807. 

Jane  Porter.*  "The  Scottish 
Chiefs,"  1810. 

Shelley.*    "Zastrozzi,"  1810. 

Jane  Austin.  "  Sense  and  Sensi- 
bility," 1811. 

Jane  Austin.  "  Mansfield  Park," 
ISM. 

Scott.*    "  Waverley,"  1814. 


*  Stories  of  Romance  aud  Adventure  in  this  section  are  narked  with  a* 
asterisk. 


APPENDIX  529 

TABLE  XII.  —MODERN  ENGLISH  PERIOD  * 


HISTORICAL 
EVENTS. 

POETBT. 

PB08B. 

Catholic    Emanci- 

Walter        Savage 

Walter   Savage    Landor,    1(  .5- 

pation  Bui,  1829. 

Landor,          1775- 

1864. 

1864. 

"  Imaginary  Conversations,"  1824- 

William          IV., 

Poems,  1795. 

1853. 

1830-1837. 

Thomas      Babing- 

Maria  Edgeworth,  1767-1849. 

Lord  Grey,  Prime 
Minister,  1830. 

ton       Macaulay, 
1800-1859. 

'•  Castle  Rackrent,"  1800. 
"  Popular  Tales,"  1804. 

"  Lays    of    Ancient 

"  Helen."  1834. 

Opening  of  Liver- 
pool   and    Man- 
chester Railroad, 

Rome,"  1842. 
Leigh  Hunt,  1784- 
1859. 

Sydney  Smith,  1771-1845. 
'•  Letters   on  the  Catholics  from 
Peter  Plymley."  1808. 

1830. 

"  Juvenilia,"  1802. 

Et>*ays,  1802-1828 

Reform  Agitation, 

"  The  Story  of  Rim- 

Leigh Hunt,  17H4-1859. 

1831. 

ini,"  1816. 

"  The  Examiner,"  1808. 

Parliamentary  Re- 
form Bill,  1832. 

Thomas         Hood, 
179H-1845. 
"  Whims  and  Oddi- 

" Table  Talk."  1850. 
Thomas  Carlyle.  1795-1881. 
Translation  of  "  Wilhelm  Meister,* 

New     Poor    Law, 

ties,"  1826. 

1824. 

1834. 

"  Poems  of  Wit  and 

"  Sartor  Resartns,"  1883-1834. 

System  of  National 
Education       be- 

Humor. '  1847. 
Elizabeth    Barrett 

"  The  French  Revolution,"  1897. 
Thomas  Babington   Macaulay, 

gan,  1834. 

Browning,    1809- 

1800-1859. 

istti. 

Milton  (Essay  on),  1825. 

Victoria,  1837. 

Poems,  1826 

Kssnys,  1843. 

First  Electric  Tele- 
graph    patented 
and  used,  1837. 

'•  Aurora       Leigh," 
1856. 
John   Keble,  1792- 

'•  History  of  England  from  .Tame* 
II.."  1848-1860. 
Edward  Bulwer  (Lord  LyttoiQ, 

1866. 

1805-1878. 

Rise     of     Trades 

"  The         Christian 

"  Pelham,"  1827. 

Unions,  1837. 

Year,"  1827. 

"  The  Last  of  the  Baron*,"  1841. 

Ri-e  of  Chartism, 

Alfred     Tennyson 

"  The  Parisians,"  1872-1878. 

1837. 

(Lord),  1809-1892. 

Benjamin     Disraeli     <  Earl     Of 

The  Queen's  Mar- 
riage   to   Prince 
Albert   of  Saxe- 
Cobnrg,  1840. 
Oxford  Movement, 

"  Timbuctoo,"  1829. 
Poems,  1830. 
"  Idylls      of       the 
King."  1858-1886. 
"  Demeter,  and  other 
Poems,"  1889. 

Beaconsfield),  1804-1881. 
"  Vivian  Grey,''  1826-1827. 
"  Endymion,1'  1880. 
Charles  Dickens,  1812-1870. 
"  Sketches  by  Bor,"  1834-1888. 
"  David  Oopperfleld,"  1849-1850. 

begun  about  1833. 

Robert    Browning, 

"  Bleak  House,"  1852-1853. 

Sir    Robert    Peel, 

1812-1889. 

"  Onr  Mutual  Friend,"  1864-18*5. 

Prime    Minister, 

"  Pauline."  1833. 

William      Makepeace     Thack- 

1841. 
Chartist  RioU,1842. 

"  Men  and  Women, 
1856. 
"  The  Ring  and  the 

eray,  1811-1868. 
"  The  Yellowpluth  Papers,"  1887. 
"  Vanity  Fair,"  1847-1848. 

Graham's   Factory 

Book,"  1868. 

"  The  Newcomes,"  1854-1855. 

Bill,  1844. 
Repeal  of  the  Corn 

"  Dramatic   Idylls," 
1879-1880. 

John  Henry  Newman,  1801-18801 
-  Arians  of  the  Fourth  Ontnry." 

Laws,  1846. 

"  Asolando,"  1889. 

1KS3. 

*  The  position  of  an  author  in  this  table  is  determined  by 
date  of  MB  first  publication. 


530  APPENDIX 

TABLE  XII.— MODERN  ENGLISH  PERIOD—  Continued 


HISTORICAL 
EVENTS. 


Ministry  of  Lord 
John  Russell, 
1847. 

Downfall  of  the 
Chartists,  1848. 

Free  Libraries  es- 
tablished, 1850. 

Death  of  the  Duke 
of  Wellington, 
1852. 

Crimean  War,  1854- 
1856. 

Charge     of    the 

Light    Brigade 

at     Balaklava, 

1854 

Battle  of  Inker- 

mann,  1854. 
Siege  of  Sebasto- 

pol,  1854. 
Fall  of  Sebasto- 

pol,  1855. 
Peace  made  with 
Russia  by   the 
Treaty  of  Paris, 
1856. 
Indian        Mutiny. 

1857. 
Siege  of  Lncknow, 

1857. 
Massacre  of  Cawn- 

pore,  1857. 
End  of  East  India 

Company,  1858. 

Jews  admitted   to 

Parliament,  1858. 

Death    of    Prince 

Consort,  1861. 
Gladstone,   Leader 
of  House  of  Com- 
mons, 1866. 
Parliamentary    Re- 
form Bill,  1867. 
Disraeli,        Prime 

Minister,  1867. 
Mr.    Foster's   Edu- 
cation Act,  1870. 


T.  Lovell  Beddoes, 
1803-1849. 

"  Death's  Jest- 
book,"  1850. 

Sidney  Dobell, 
1824-1874. 

"  The  Roman,"  1850. 

"  England  in  Time 
of  War,"  1856. 

Hartley  Coleridge, 
1796-1849. 

"  Worthies  of  York- 
shi  re  and  Lanca- 
shire," 1836. 

Poems,  1851. 

Arthur  Hugh 

Clough,  1819-1861. 

"  The  Bothle  of  To- 
ber-na- V  u  o  1  i  c  h," 
1848. 

"  Dipsychus,"  1862. 

Matthew  Arnold, 
1822-1888. 

"  The  Strayed  Rev- 
eller," and  other 
Poems,  1848. 

"  Empedocles  on 
Etna,"  1853. 

Poems,  1855. 

William  Morris, 
1834-1896. 

"  The  Defense  of 
Guinevere,"  and 
other  Poems,  1858. 

"  The  Earthly  Para- 
dise," 1868-1870. 

Dante  Gabriel  Ros- 
setti,  1828-1882. 

"  The  Early  Italian 
Poets,"  1861 ;  re- 
published  as 
'  Dante  and  His 
Circle,"  1873. 

Poems,  1870-1882. 

Algernon  Charles 
Swinburne,  1837. 

"  Rosamond,''  1861. 

Poems  and  Ballads, 
1866-1889. 


"  Apologia  pro  Vita  Sua,"  1864. 

Charles  Darwin,  1809-1882. 

"  Journal  of  Researches,"  1839- 
1845 

"  On  the  Origin  of  Species,"  1859. 

"  The  Descent  of  Man,"  1871. 

John  Ruskin,  1819-1900. 

"  Salsette  and  Elephanta,"  1839. 

"  Modern  Painters,"  1843-1860. 

"  Ethics  of  the  Dust,"  1865. 

"  Prseterita  "  (begun),  1885. 

Charles  Kingsley,  1819-1875. 

"  Village  Sermons,"  1844. 

"  Hypatia,"  1853. 

"  Hereward,  1866. 

George  Grote,  1794-1871. 

"  The  History  of  Greece,"  1846* 
1856. 

Herbert  Spencer,  1820. 

"  The  Proper  Sphere  of  Govern- 
ment," 1842. 

"  Principles  of  Biology,"  1864. 

"  Principles  of  Sociology  "  (voL 
i.),  1876. 

Charlotte  Bronte",  1816-1855. 

"  Jane  Eyre,"  1847. 

"  Villette,"  1853. 

"The  Professor."  1857. 

Emily  Bronte',  1818-1848. 

"  Wuthering  Heights,"  1847. 

Elizabeth  Gaskell,  1810-1866. 

"  Mary  Barton,"  1848. 

"  Wives  and  Daughters,"  1866. 

Anthony  Trollope,  1815-1882. 

"  The  Macdermotts  of  Bully. 
cloran,"  1847. 

"  Barchester  Towers,"  1857. 

"  Phineas  Finn,"  1869. 

James  A.  Froude,  1818-1SO*. 

"  The  Nemesis  of  Fate,"  1848. 

"  History  of  England,"  1856-1869. 

Charles  Reade,  1814-1884. 

"  Peg  Wofflngton,"  1852. 

"  The  Cloister  and  the  Hearth," 
1860. 

"  A  Woman  Hater,"  1877. 

Henry  T.  Buckle,  1822-1862. 

"  History  of  Civilization  In  Eu- 
rope," 1857-1861. 

George  Eliot  (Mary  Ann  Evans 
Cross),  1820-1881. 

"  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life,"  1858. 


APPENDIX  531 

TABLE  XII.— MODERN  ENGLISH  PERIOD—  Continued 


HISTORICAL, 
KVEST8. 


Victoria,  Empress 
of  India,  1876. 

Outbreak  of  Zulu 
War,  1879. 

Gladstone,  Prime 
Minister,  1880. 

Bill  for  "Repre- 
sentation of  the 
People,"  1885. 


Henry  Austin 

Dobson,  1840. 
"  Vignettes  in 

Rhyme,"  1873. 
"  Proverbs  in  Force 

lain,"  1877. 
"  At  the  Sign  of  the 

Lyre,"  1885. 
James      Thomson, 

1834-1882. 

"  The  City  of  Dread- 
ful   Night,"  1874. 
"  Vauu's        Story," 

1881. 
Andrew         Lang, 

1844. 
"Ballads    in    Bine 

China,"  1880. 
"  Rhymes      a      la 

Mode,"  1885. 
Sir  Edwin  Arnold, 

1832. 
"  The      Light      of 

Asia,"  1879. 
William    Watson, 

1844. 
"  The  Prince's 

Quest,"  1880. 
"  W  ords  worth's 

Grave,"  1889. 
Poems,  1893. 


"  Romola,"  1868. 

"  Middlemarch,"  1871-1878. 

"  Daniel  Deronda,"  1878. 

Essays,  1883. 

Matthew  Arnold,  1822-1888. 

"  Essays  in  Criticism,"  1865-1888. 

Mixed  Essays,  1879. 

Irian  Essays,  1882. 

William  Edward  Lecky,  1838. 

"  History  of  Rationalism  in  Eu- 
rope," 1865. 

"  History  of  England  in  the  Eight- 
eenth Century,"  1878. 

Richard  Blackmore,  1825-1900. 

"  Lorna  Doone,"  1869. 

Leslie  Stephen,  1832. 

"  The  Playground  of  Europe," 
1871. 

"  Hours  in  a  Library,"  1874-1879. 

Walter  Pater,  1839-1894. 

"  Studies  in  the  Renaissance,"  1878. 

"  Appreciations."  1889. 

John  Richard  Greene,  1837-1883. 

r-  A  Short  History  of  the  Tf»fl>*fc 
People,"  1874. 

"  The  Making  of  Engrland."  1882. 

William  Stubbs  (Bishop  of  Ox- 
ford), 1825-1901. 

"  Constitutional  History  of  Eng- 
land."  1874-1878. 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson,  1845- 
1894. 

"  Virginibns  Puerisqne,"  1881. 

"Kidnapped,"  1886. 

"The  Master  of  Ballantrac,"  1889. 


LIST  OF  AUTHORS  TO  ACCOMPANY 
LITERARY  MAP 

The  following  is  a  list  of  some  of  the  most  representative  men  in  EngiUh 
iterature.  By  referring  to  the  accompanying  map,  the  student  will  be  able 

to  find  their  birthplaces  as  well  as  some  of  the  localities  in  which  they  have 
ived.  Where  the  names  of  the  smaller  places  have  been  omitted  on  the 

map,  the  county  in  which  they  are  situated  can  be  found  from  the  follow- 
ng  list,  and  their  general  situation  on  the  map  approximately  determined. 

Addison,  Joseph,  b.  Millston,  Wilts,  1.  London. 
Alfred,  King,  b.  Wantage,  Berks,  1.  Winchester,  Hants. 
Arthurian  Legends,  chiefly  located  in  Cornwall. 

Bacon,  Francis  (Lord  St.  Albans),  b.  London,  1.  St.  Albans, 

Hertford. 
Bede,  or  Bseda,    b.  Monkwearmouth,  Durham,    L  Jarrow, 

Northumberland. 

Beaumont,  Francis,  b.  Grnce-Dieu,  Leicester. 
Blake,  Wm.,  b.  and  1.  London. 
Browne,  Sir  Thomas,  b.  and  1.  London. 
Browning,  Robert,  b.  and  1.  London. 
Browning,  Elizabeth  Barrett,  b.  Durham,  1.  London. 
Bunyan,  John,  b.  Elstow,  near  Bedford,  Bedfordshire. 
Burke,  Edmund,  b.  Dublin,  1.  London,  etc. 
Butler,  Samuel,  b.  Strensham.  Worcester. 
Burns,  Robert,  b.  near  Ayr,  Ayrshire,  Scotland. 
Byron,  Lord  George  Gordon,  b.  London,  1.  Newstead  Abbey, 

Nottingham. 

Csedmon,  b.  (?),  1.  Whitby,  York. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  b.  Ecclefechan.  near  Annan,  Scotland. 

Chatterton,  Thomas,  b.  Bristol,  Gloucester. 

Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  b.  and  1.  London. 

Clough,  Arthur  Hugh,  b.  Liverpool,  Lancashire 

538 


534  AJPPENDIX 

Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor,  b.  Ottery-St.-Mary,  Devon,  1.  Kes- 

wick,  Cumberland  (Lake  Country). 
Collins,  Wm.,  b.  Chichester,  Sussex. 
Cowley,  Abraham,  b.  and  1.  London. 
Cowper,  Wm.,  b.  Great  Berkhampstead,  Hertford,  1.  Olney, 

Bucks. 

Crabbe,  George,  b.  Aldborough,  Suffolk. 
Crashaw,  Richard,  b.  and  1.  London. 

Dekker,  Thomas,  b.  and  1.  London. 

Defoe,  Daniel,  b.  London,  1.  London,  Tilbury,  etc. 

De  Quincey,  Thomas,  b.  near  Manchester,  1.  Grasmere,  West- 
moreland (Lake  Country). 

Dickens,  Charles,  b.  Landport,  Hampshire,  1.  London. 

Donne,  John,  b.  and  1.  London. 

Drummond,  Wm.,  b.  Hawthornden,  near  Edinburgh. 

Dryden,  John,  b.  Aid  winkle,  All  Saints,  Northampton,  1. 
London. 

Eliot,  George  (Mary  Ann  Evans  Cross),  b.  Coventry,  War- 
wick. 

Fielding,  Henry,  b.  Sharpham  Park,  Somerset. 
Fletcher,  John,  b.  Northampton,  1.  Ryeland,  Sussex. 

Gay,  John,  b.  Frithelstock,  Devon,  1.  Barnstaple,  Devon. 
Goldsmith,  Oliver,  b.  Pallas,  Ireland,  1.  London,  etc. 
Gray,  Thomas,  b.  London,  1.  Stoke  Pogis,  Bucks. 

Habington,  Wm.,  b.  Hendlip,  near  Worcester,  Wor- 
cestershire. 

Hall,  Joseph,  b.  Bristow  Park,  Leicestershire. 

Herbert,  George,  b.  near  Montgomery,  Shropshire,  1.  Bemer. 
ton,  near  Salisbury. 

Herrick,  Robert,  b.  London,  1.  Dean's  Prior,  Devon. 

Hogg.  James,  b.  Ettrick,  Selkirkshire,  Scotland. 

Howard,  Henry  (Earl  of  Surrey),  b.  (?)  1.  Surrey,  Sussex, 

Johnson,  Samuel,  b.  Lichfield,  Stafford,  1.  London. 
Jonson,  Benjamin,  b.  Westminster,  1.  London. 


APPENDIX  535 

Keats,  John,  b.  and  1.  London. 

Lamb,  Charles,  b.  and  1.  London. 

Langland,  Wm.,  b.  probably  in  Shropshire,  I.  Malvern  Hills. 

Macaulay,  Thos.  Babington,  b.  Rothley  Temple,  Leicester. 

1.  London. 

Marlowe,  Christopher,  b.  Canterbury,  Kent,  1.  London. 
Marvell,  Andrew,  b.  Winestead,  near  Hull,  York,  1.  London. 
Milton,  John,  b.  and  1.  London,  and  Horton,  Bucks. 
More,  Sir  Thomas,  b.  and  1.  London. 

Peele,  George,  b.  (?),  1.  London. 

Pope,  Alexander,  b.  and  L  London  and  Twickenham, 
Middlesex. 

Raleigh,  Sir  "Walter,  b.  Devon,  1.  London. 
Ramsay,  Allan,  Lanarkshire,  Scotland,  1.  London. 
Richardson,  Samuel,  b.  Derbyshire.  1.  London. 
Rossetti,  Dante  Gabriel,  b.  and  1.  London. 

Sackville,  Thomas  (Lord  Buckhurst),  b.  Buckhurst,  Sussex, 
1.  London. 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  b.  Edinburgh,  i.  Abbotsford,  near  Melrose. 

Shakespeare,  Wm.,  b.  Stratford-on-Avon,  Warwick,  1. 
London. 

Shelley,  Percy  Bysshe,  b.  Field  Place,  near  Horsham,  Sussex. 

Southey,  Robert,  b.  Bristol,  Gloucester,  1.  Keswick,  Cumber- 
land (Lake  Country). 

Steele,  Richard,  b.  Dublin,  1.  London. 

Suckling,  John,  b.  Twic^.-innun,  Middlesex,  1.  London. 

Swift,  Jonathan,  b.  Dublin,  1.  London,  Dublin,  etc. 

Taylor,  Jeremy,  b.  Cambridge. 

Tennyson,  Lord  Alfred,  b.  Somersby.  Lincoln.  1.  Farringford 

House,  Isle  of  Wight,  and  Blackdown,  in  Sussex. 

Thomson,  James,  b.  and  1.  Ednam,  Roxburgh. 


536  APPENDIX 

Waller,  Edmund,  b.  Coleshill,  Hertford,  1.  London. 

Walton,  Izaak,  b.  Stafford,  1.  London. 

Wyclif,    John,  b.   Hipswell  (?),  near    Richmond,    York,  1. 

Oxford, 

"Wither,  George,  b.  Brentnorth,  Hampshire. 
Wordsworth,  Wm.,  b.  Cockermouth,  1.  Grasmere  and  Ryda) 

Mount  (Lake  Country). 
Wyatt,  Sir  Thomas,  b.  Allington  Castle,  Kent. 

Young,  Edward,  b.  Upham,  near  Winchester,  Hampshire. 


INDEX. 


Abbot,  The,  843 

Abbotsford,  840 

Acting,  early,  134 

Addison,  201,  204,  206 ;  and 
Steele,  205,  206;  as  social 
reformer,  205 ;  biography 
and  criticism,  206-207; 
character  and  work,  206 ; 
essay  and  the  novel,  206; 
life  of,  204 ;  Macaulay  on, 
206;  poem  on  T/ie  Cam- 
V«tign,  205;  poem  on  The 
Peace  of  Ryswick,  204; 
Richardson  and  Fielding, 
206  ;  Study  List,  206 

^Elfric,  45 ;  as  educational 
and  monastic  reformer,  46 

^Eneas,  68. 

^Eneid,  Vergil's,  105 

Agincourt,  183 

Agincourt,  Battle  of,  129 

Aidan,  81,  82 

Alcuin,  45 

Aldhelm,  82,  89 

Alexander  the  Great,  early 
poems  on,  54 

Alfoxden,  812,  828 

Alfred,  42 ;  account  of  his 
work,  42;  as  a  translator, 
44 ;  as  educational  reformer, 
42;  The  Chronicle,  43; 
heroism  of,  42  ;  his  transla- 
tions, 43  ;  revival  of  learn- 


ing under,  43;  The  Saying* 
of,  57  ;  Alfred  to  Norman 
Conquest,  from,  45 

America,  103,  261 ;  republic 
of,  262 

Anacreon,  2 

Analogy  of  Religion,  Natural 
and  Revealed,  to  the  Consti- 
tution and  Course  of  Nature, 
257 

Anchoressis,  Rule  of,  tee 
Ancren  Kiwle 

Aneren  Riwle,  Tfie,  60 

Andrea  del  Sarto,  490,  508 

Andreas,  The,  87 

Angles,  13 

Anglo-Saxons,  12 

Anjou,  Margaret  of,  100 

Annals,  see  Chronicles 

Anne,  Queen,  198,  199 

Anselm,  49 ;  succeeds  Lan- 
franc,  52 

Arcadia,  Sidney's.  112.  118 

Arden,  forest  of,  20,  186 

Arden,  Mary,  185 

Ariosto,  106,  107,  120 

Aristotle,  72 

Armada,  Spanish,  16,  100. 
115,  127 

Armour,  Jean,  804 

Arnold,  Matthew,  488,  485, 
436.  452,  453,  459,  461 ;  as 
critic,  488;  as  poet,  436; 
Culture  and  Anarchy,  489; 
On  the  Translating  of 


538 


INDEX 


Homer,  438 ;    Switzerland, 

438;   Tristram  and  Iseult, 

437 
Art  of  Poetry.  Boileau,  193. 

194 
Arthur,  King,  54 ;  epic  of, 

55,  58,  59,  69 

Aryan,  table  of,  races,  note,  12 
Ascham,  123,  155,  162 
Asser,  42 

Astrolabe,  treatise  on,  76 
Athelstane,  45 
Athelwald,  45  ;  as  a  reformer. 

46 

Athenaeum,  The,  400 
Austen,  Jane,  439 ;  Sense  and 

Sensibility,  439 
Avignon,  72 
Avon,  136 

B 

Bacon,  Sir  Francis,  112,  154, 
198 ;  Advancement  of  Learn* 
ing,  157  ;  Essays,  158,  159  ; 
Henry  VIII. ,  History  of, 
158;  his  life,  156;  New 
Atlantis,  158 ;  Lord  Chau- 
cellor,  156,  157 

Baeda,  see  Bede 

Bailly,  Harry,  82,  83 

Balaclava,  16 

Balder,  22 

Ball,  John,  71 

Ballades,  John  Gower,  78 

Bannockburn,  307 

Barrett,  Elizabeth  (Mrs. 
Browning),  484;  Sonnets, 
484 

Bastille,  the,  808 

Beattie,  James,  271;  The 
Minstrel,  271,  272 

Beaumont,  169 

Becket,  St.  Thomas  a,  70,  81 

Bede,  40,  43 

Beowulf,  25 

Bible,  the  English,  167; 
translation  of,  103 


Biographia  Literaria,  401 
Biscop,  Benedict,  31 
Black  Death,  the,  71 
Blackdown,  in  Surrey,  470 
Blackfriars  Theater,  170 
Blackstone,  Commentaries  on 

the  Laws  of  England,  267 
Blackwood's  Magazine,  400 
Blair,  263  ;  Ihe  Grave.  263 
Blake,  William,  273,274,  27$ 

460  ;  Edward  III.,  274 
Boccaccio,  73,  82 
Boethius,  The  Consolation  qf 

Philosophy,  43,  76 
Boileau,  7,  8 
Bolingbroke,  256 
Bologna,  7,  101 
Bossuet,  192 
Bosworth,  battle  of,  361 
Boyer,  Elizabeth,  120 
Bride  of  Lammermoor,  The, 

344    ' 

Brindley,  James,  261 
Brink,  Ten,  note,  59 
Brithnoth,  Death  of,  44 
British  Kings,  History  of,  55 
Britons,  the,  12,  17,  18 
Brooke,  Henry,  2he  Universal 

Beauty,  264 
Brooke,  Stopford,  translation, 

note,  14 

Browne,  Sir  Thomas,  155 
Browning,  E.  B.,  406 
Browning,  Robert,  320,  406, 

452,  462,  482 ;  Abt  Vogler, 

494  ;  Andrea  del  Sarto,  490, 
502 ;  as  a  poet,  473,  485 ; 
as  teacher,  491 ;  Asolando, 
485  ;  By  the  Fireside,  485, 

495  ;  Christmas  Eve,  488  ; 
Cleon,  491 ;  compared  with 
George  Eliot,  493;   com- 
pared  with   Milton,    493; 
compared     with     Shakes- 
peare,  493 ;  criticism  of  his 
poetry,  486-491;  dramatic 
monologue,  489 ;  Epistle  of 


INDEX 


539 


412 ;  Frn  Ltppo 
Lippi,  489;  his  dramatic 
power,  493;  his  genius, 
482  ;  his  intellectual  force, 
496;  his  marriage,  485; 
his  metaphors,  489;  his 
optimism,  491 ;  his  view  of 
life,  492;  his  work,  495; 
Ivan  Ivanovitch,  489 ;  life 
in  Florence,  485;  main 
points  in  his  teaching,  494  ; 
Martin  Relph,  489  ;  Master 
Hugueaof  Soxe  Ootha,  490  ; 
Men  and  Women,  495 ;  My 
Last  Duchess,  489 ;  Old 
Pictures  in  Florence,  486- 
490;  One  Word  More,  484; 
Pacchiarotto,  486 ;  Pauline, 
406,  485 ;  personal  traits, 
482,  484;  Pippa  Passes, 
483;  Prospice,  496;  Red 
Cotton  Nightcap  Country, 
486;  "Rephan"  in  Aso~ 
lando,  495 ;  The  Ring  and 
the  Book,  485,  495  ;  Saul, 
note,  484 ;  Youth  and  Art, 
495 

Bruce,  Bobert,  807 
Bruges,  Red  Cross,  Sign  of 

the,  103 

Brunanburh,  Song  of,  44 
Brut,  Layamon's,  56 
Bunyan,  John,  169,  191 
Burbage,  James,  189 
Burbage,  Richard,  189 
Burke,  Edmund,  265,  299  ; 
and    American     Colonies, 
294,  295;  and  Goldsmith, 
292  ;  Annual  Register,  294 ; 
as  a  man  of  letters,  298 ; 
as  a  political  thinker,  299 ; 
biography    and    criticism, 
800  ;  death  of  his  son,  297  ; 
his  career  as   an   author, 
293 ;  his  conservatism,  296  ; 
his  death,  298 ;   his   life, 
292;   in  Parliament,  294; 


Letters  on  a  Regicide  Peace, 
297  i  literature  and  politics, 
293 ;  Philosophical  Inquiry 
into  the  Origin  of  our  Ideal 
of  the  Sublime  and  Beauti- 
ful, A,  293  ;  Reflections  on 
the  Revolution  in  France, 
297;  Speech  on  Concilia- 
tion with  America,  295 ; 
Speeches  on  America,  295  ; 
Study  List,  800 ;  Thoughts 
on  the  Present  Discontents, 
295  ;  trial  of  Hastings,  296 : 
Vindication  of  Natural 
Society,  A,  298 
Burney,  Frances,  446;  Em 

Una,  446 

Burns,  Robert,  278,  800,  805, 
807,  453;  at  Edinburgh, 
804 ;  biography  and  cntl 
cism,  808  ;  Carlyle  on,  802  ; 
Cotter's  Saturday  Night, 
805  ;  Dumfriesshire,  804  ; 
life  of,  300 ;  love  songs, 
805  ;  poems,  807  ;  songs, 
807-808  ;  Study  List,  807 ; 
sympathy  with  nature  and 
animals,  807 ;  Tarn  O* 
Shanter,  808 ;  Wordsworth 
on,  801 

Butler,  Bishop,  257 
Butler,  Samuel,  191 
Byrhtnoth,  Death  of,  44 
Byron,  Lord,  261,  806,  860, 
861,  406,  461,  474,  476; 
biography  and  criticism 
869 ;  his  death,  865 ;  his 
marriage,  868 ;  his  work, 
criticism  of,  865-868 ;  life 
of,  861-365  ;  list  of  works : 
Bride  of  Abydos,  867;  Cain, 
864,  868 ;  Ohilde  Harold, 
261,  863,  864 ;  Don  Juan, 
864;  English  Bards  and 
Scotch  Reviewers,  868 ; 
Oiaour,  The,  868  ;  Hour* 
of  Idleness,  862 ;  Manfred. 


540 


INDEX 


364 ;  Prisoner  of  Ohillon, 
869  ;  Vision  of  Judgment, 
866  ;  Study  List,  869 


Cabots,  the,  103 

Cadwallon,  58 

Csedmon,  32,  34,  79 ;  Crea- 
tion, 47,  49  ;  Paraphrase  of 
the  Scriptures,  32,  35 ; 
story  of,  34  ;  the  England 
of,  58 

€alais,  361 

Cambridge,  7,  175 ;  King's 
College,  100 ;  Queen's  Col- 
lege, 100 

Campbell,  Thomas,  399,  469 

Canterbury,  31,  70  ;  Canter- 
bury Tales,  Chaucer,  72, 
80,  81 ;  prologue  to,  81,  83- 
87,  93  ;  school  at,  31 

Canute,  61 

Carew,  Thomas,  171,  173 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  2,  310, 
368,  400,  406,  410,  432, 
453,  468,  492  ;  Essays,  416  ; 
French  Revolution,  2,  419, 
422,  423  ;  Heroes  and  Hero- 
Worship,  421  ;  his  life,  413- 
419;  his  style,  422-425; 
his  work,  420  ;  his  works, 
416-425  ;  Life  of  Cromwell, 
421  ;  Life  of  Frederick  the 
Great,  419;  Reminiscences, 
419  ;  Sartor  Resartus,  413, 
415,  417 ;  Study  List,  498 

Castle,  Baynard's,  113 

Catholicism,  Roman,  107 

Caxton,  William,  102 

Celt  and  Teuton,  50  ;  union 
in  Shakespeare,  20 

Celtic  stock,  12,  17 ;  humor, 
19  ;  literature,  46,  67  ;  love 
of  nature,  19  ;  poetry  and 
legend,  17  ;  romances,  18 

Celts,  the,  12,  16,  17,  18,  20 


Chambers,  Robert,  401 

Chambers,  William,  401 

Chandos,  Sir  John,  70 

Chapman.  106,  169 

Charlemagne,  early  poems  on, 
54 

Charles  I.,  165,  168,  180 

Charles  II.,  7,  180,  191 

Chatterton,  Thomas,  279 

Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  10,  65,  66, 
68,  72,  79,  80,  81,  123  ;  and 
his  time,  93 ;  biography 
and  criticism,  98  ;  dramatic 
power,  92  ;  editions  of,  97  ; 
England  of,  68 ;  his  cen- 
tury, 68,  70  ;  his  life,  74, 
75 ;  his  verse,  73 ;  his 
works,  78,  93;  history, 
manners,  and  customs,  98  ; 
language,  98 ;  lover  of 
nature,  76 ;  man  of  the 
world,  75 ;  poet  of  the 
Court,  92 ;  student,  76 ; 
Study  List,  93 

Chivalry,  70 

Christianity,  Irish,  31 

Christ's  Hospital,  324 

Chronicle,  The,  43,  44,  46; 
Anglo-Norman,  53 ;  Anglo- 
Saxon,  53  ;  English,  57 

Chrysoloras,  101 

Church,  the,  72 

Civil  War,  170,  198 

Clarence,  Lionel,  Duke  of, 
74 

Clarkson,  258 

Classic  school,  279 

Cleopatra,  110 

Clerk,  Oxford,  Canterbury 
Tales,  72,  76 

Clerk's  Tale,  Chaucer,  88,  89, 
95 

Clive,  261 

Clough,  461 

Cobbett,  William,  400 

Cockermouth,  810 

Coleridge,    Samuel    Taylor. 


INDEX 


541 


278,  279,  829,  359,  861.  899, 
401,  406,  476;  and  Lamb, 


334;  his  death.  329 
life,  324-329;  works 
dent  Mariner,  279, 326 


his 
An- 

An- 


cient Mariner,  criticism  of, 

%  332  334 ;  Biographia  Lite- 
raria,  330  ;  Christabel,  280, 
330  ;  Kubla  Khan,  831 ; 
Ode  to  France,  336  ;  Wai- 
lemtein,  326 ;  Youth  and 
Age,  827 ;  joins  Words- 
worth,  326  ;  poems  of  the 
supernatural,  336,  337 ; 
return  to  England,  326; 
Study  List,  336;  visit  to 
Germany,  326 

Colet,  John,  101, 162 

Colleges,  foundation  of,  100 

Collier,  198 

Collins,  William,  271,  272, 
273  ;  Odea,  271,  272,  275 ; 
Swinburne  on  Ode  to  Even- 
ing, 273 

Columbus,  102 

Commerce,  growth  of,  108 

Complaint  of  Deor,  24,  25 

Comus,  see  Milton 

Consolations  of  Philosophy, 
Boethius,  translated  by 
Alfred,  43 ;  translated  by 
Chaucer,  76 

Constantinople,  101 

Copernicus,  103 

Corneille,  7,  192 

Corot,  273 

Courtly  Makers,  105 

Coventry,  447 

Coverdale,  162 

Cowper,  William,  806,  808; 
The  Task,  271,  808 

Crabbe.  George,  271,  277 

Craik,  George  L.,  401 

Cranmer,  162 

Crashaw,  Richard,  171 

Crecv,  battle  of,  71 

Cromwell,  165,  160. 191 


Cross,  John  Walter,  451 
Croyland,  Abbey  of,  42 
Cuckoo  song,  the,  62 
Cumberland,  310,  818 
Cuthbert,  47 
Cymri,  the,  17 
Cyndyllan,  Lament  for,  47 
Cynewulf,    87,    79 ;    Cyne- 

wulf's     Christ,     87,    88; 

Llene,  The,  89,  59 


Daily  Courant,  200 

Danes,  the,  12 ;  coming  of, 
41 

Daniel,  Samuel,  128;  CivH 
Wart,  128 

Dante,  72,  93,  424;  Dicint 
Comedy,  72 

Darwin,  Charles,  264,  404, 
452 

Decamerone,  the,  78,  82 

Defoe,  Daniel,  200.  215,  450; 
as  a  novelist,  221 ;  biog- 
raphy and  criticism,  225; 
cnticism  on,  223 ;  Daudet 
on,  222  ;  death,  221 ;  death 
of  William  III.,  217;  in- 
fluence of  his  death  on 
Defoe's  fortunes,  217;  his 
fecundity,  220  ;  bis  stories, 
criticism  on,  222  ;  his  time, 
215;  History  of  Colonel 
Jack,  I  he,  219  :  interest  in 
politics,  216 ;  Journal  of  th» 
Ptagve  Tear,  The,  228; 
Journalistic  spirit,  220 ; 
Lamb  on,  221 ;  last  years, 
221  ;  Leslie  Stephen  on, 
221;  life,  216;  Life  cf 
Captain  Singleton,  The, 
219:  Memoirs  of  a  Cavalier, 
The,  219;  Mr.  Minto  on, 
221;  Moll  Flanders,  219: 
novels,  219;  position  of 
Dissenters,  217 ;  Review, 


542 


INDEX 


200,  218;  Robinson  Crusoe, 
219,  450;  foundation  for, 
220;  Shortest  Way  with 
Dissenter*,  The,  218;  Study 
List,  224 ;  True  Born  Eng» 
lishman,  217 

Dekker,  169 

Democracy,  advance  of,  896 ; 
age  of,  262  ;  rise  of,  281 

DC  Natura  Rerum,  Bede,  40 

De  Quincey,  Thomas,  note, 
2,  846,  401,  435  ;  a  writer 
for  magazines,  849 ;  ap- 
pearance and  character, 
846 ;  as  a  man  of  letters, 
850 ;  as  an  opium  eater, 
847  ,  at  Worcester  College. 
Oxford,  348 ;  biography 
and  criticism,  355 ;  com- 
pared to  Addison,  851 ; 
Confessions  of  an  English 
Opium  Eater,  849,  853  ; 
death,  850  •,  Dream-Fugue 
on  the  Theme  of  Sudden 
Death,  853-  entrance  into 
literature,  849-  Flight  of 
a  Tartar  Trice,  The,  852, 
853-  his  diversity,  851; 
his  place  in  English  prose, 
852  ,;h's  style,  854;  Laocoon, 
translation  of,  849  ,  Lenana 
and  Our  Ladies  of  Sorrow, 
852;  life,  847;  marriage, 
849  ;  Murder  Considered  as 
One  of  the  Fine  Arts,  852, 
853 ;  Study  List,  855 ;  Sus- 
piria  de  Profundis,  853 ; 
works,  853 

Devonshire,  824 

Dialect,  East  Midland,  64, 65; 
Northern,  64;  Southern, 
64 

Dia-:,  103 

Dickens,  Charles,  406,  442, 
447,  453 ;  early  years,  441 ; 
works  :  Bleak  Mouse,  441 ; 
David  Gopperjicld,  441, 448 ; 


Edwin  Drood,  442  ;  LitOt 
Dorrit,  441 ;  Olive?  Twist, 
441 ;  Our  Mutual  Friend, 
441 ;  Pickwick,  441 ;  Tab 
of  Two  Cities,  443 

Divine  Comedy,  see  Dante 

Don  Quixote,  122 

Donne,  Dr.  John,  171 

Dowden,  Edward,  note,  2 

Drake,  111 

Drama,  English,  106;  before 
Shakespeare.  124 ;  begin- 
ning of  regular,  127  ;  Eliza- 
bethan, preparation  for, 
125  ;  growth  of,  127 

Drayton,  Michael,  128  ;  Bat' 
tie  of  Agincourt,  129 ; 
Eeroical  Epistles,  129 ; 
Polyolbion,  The,  129,  469 

Dress,  109 

Drummond,  William,  161 ; 
Sonnets,  161 

Drury  Lane,  275 

Dryden,  John,  194,  263,  271, 
278,  866,  496 ;  Alexander's 
Feast,  196 ;  and  his  time, 
197  ;  as  critic,  194  ;  as  satir- 
ist, 195;  Essay  on  Dramatic 
Poetry,  194 ;  The  Hind  and 
the  Panther,  196  ;  his  power 
of  reasoning  in  verse,  196  ; 
lyrics,  196  ;  Mac  Flecknoe, 
196 ;  The  Medal,  196 ; 
Mistress  Anne  Killegrew, 
196  ;  Religio  Laid,  196 ; 
St.  Cecilia's  Day,  Ode  on, 
196 

Dumfriesshire,  804,  413 

Dunstan,45;  educational  and 
monastic  reformer,  46 

Durham  Place,  118 

E 

East  India  Company,  109 
East   Midland    English,   see 
Dialect 


INDEX 


543 


Ecclefechan,  413 

Ecclesiastical  History,  Bede, 
43 

Edgehill,  861 

Edgeworth,  Maria,  489; 
Absentee,  The,  439;  Castle 
Rackrent,  439;  Helen,  439 

Edinburgh,  Journal,  the,  400; 
Review,  the,  400 

Edington,  battle  of,  43 

Education  Act,  Foster,  402 

Edward  II..  Marlowe,129, 131 

Edward  III.,  64,  74,  78,  811 

Edward  VI.,  107 

Edward  the  L  .:ler,  45 

Eliot,  George,  169,  843,  446; 
as  a  novelist,  452-458; 
assistant  editor  of  West- 
minster Review,  449 ;  life 
of,  446-451:  Study  List, 
499;  works:  Adam  Bede, 
448,  451;  Daniel  Deronda, 
452;  Felix  Holt,  456:  Mid- 
die  inarch,  456;  Mill  on  the 
Floss,  448;  Sad  Fortunes  of 
Rev.  Amos  Barton,  454; 
Scenes  of  Clerical  Life,  450; 
Silas  Marner,  458;  Spanish 
Gypsy,  451 

Elizabeth,  Queen,  7, 105, 107, 
110,  111,  116,  198 

Elizabethan  literature,  sum- 
mary of,  160 

Ely,  Abbey  of,  42;  Song  of 
the  monks  in,  note,  61 

Emancipation  Bill,  397 

England:  coming  of  the  New 
Learning  to,  99;  expansion 
of,  260,  281;  language  of, 
11;  literature  of,  11;  men- 
tal  life  of,  11;  modern,  263; 
of  Elizabeth,  107;  of  Pope, 
454;  f  the  Restoration, 
190-  of  Victoria,  395,  402, 
454;  England,  the  romance 
in,  208;  Amadis  de  Oaul, 
209;  As  Ton  Like  It,  210; 


Boccaccio,  209;  Elizabethan 
stories,  general  tone,  909, 
English  prose,  209;  Faerie 
Oueene,  The,  210;  Faithful 
Shepherdess,  The,  210; 
Faustus,  210;  foreign 
romance  In,  209;  Green  and 
Nash,  209-  Lodge's  Rosa, 
lind,  210;  Lylys  Euphues, 
209;  Mailory's  Morte  ff 
Arthur,  209-  Mores 
Utiypia,  209,  Norman  Con- 
quest, 208,  Payr-ter*-  Pal- 
ate of  Pleasure,  209; 
reviva  of  learning  206; 
Shakespeare,  2C9;  Sidae}  a 
Arcadia  209,211  Tempest. 
The,  210  trade  with  Arch- 
angel,  100;  trade  wiJt 
Flanders,  108-  trade  with 
Guinea,  109;  trade  with 
Scandinavia,  108;  England 
of  Chaucer.  68 

English  Pre-Raphaelite  broth- 
erhood, 459 

English,  the,  12,  before  the 
Norman  Conquest,  21; 
description  of  early,  18; 
dialects,  64:  during  the 
modern  English  penod,  8; 
during  the  period  of  French 
Influence,  7;  during  the 
period  of  Italian  influence, 
6;  early  home  of,  18;  early 
religious  poems,  86; 
heathen  element  in  early 
poems,  30;  heathenism,  21; 
literature,  period  of  prepa- 
ration, 8,  9;  mixture  of 
races  in,  12;  mixture  with 
Celt,  50;  place  of  women 
among,  14;  prose,  Eliza- 
bethan, 154;  prose,  growth 
of,  44;  race,  making  of  the, 
12;  religious  instinct  in, 
83;  revival  of  English,  8P- 
table  of  race,  note.  19 


644 


INDEX 


Engfois,  Estoire  des,  54 

Eostre,  23 

Epic,  oldest  English,  22 

Erasmus,  101,  162;  Praise  of 
Folly,  101 

Essay  and  the  novel,  212;  De 
Coverley  compared  to 
"  Partridge  "  in  Tom  Jones, 
213;  De  Coverlsy  papers, 
212,  Defoe,  213,  246; 
Swift,  z4Q 

Essays  eighteenth  century, 
198 

Eton,  100 

P 

Fable  for  Critics,  486 

Fadrie  Queene,  The,  see  Spen- 
ser 

Fairfax,  107  ;  translated  Je- 
rusalem Delivered,  107 

Fame,  House  of,  80 

Famo'i:  Victories  of  Henry  V., 
12C 

Far  Wanderer,  24 

Furquhar,  2u9 

Fatalism,  primary  English 
trait,  22 

Fate,  >ower  of,  see  Fatalism 

F^nelon,  192 

Ferrex  and  Porrex,  105,  127 

Fielding,  Henry,  250,  258; 
Adventures  of  Joseph  An- 
drews, The,  951  ;  Byiron  on, 
251  :  his  literary  form,  251 ; 
Richardson  contrasted  with, 
250 

Fight  at  Maldon  the,  44 

Filostratc,  Boccaccio,  80 

Fletcher,  169 ;  The  Faithful 
Shepherdess,  176 

Florence,  7,  101 

Foleshill,  447 

Ford,  169 

Fortunes  of  Men,  The,  15,  47 

Fox,  265 


France,  193 

Frea,  21 

French,  attention  to  literary 

form,  193  ;   influence,  the, 

190,  192 
Frobisher,  111 
Froissart,    Chronicles  of    the 

Hundred  Years'  War,  71 
Froude,  435 
Fuller,  155 


Gaels,  the,  17 
Gaimar,  Geoffrey,  64,  55 
Gardiner,  S.  R.,435 
Garrick,  265,  274;  in  Richard 

III.   275 

Garter,  order  of,  70 
Gaskell,  Elizabeth,  440;  Mary 

Barton,  '40 
Gaunt,  John  of,  75 
Guy,  John.  242  ;  Trivia,  269 
Gentleman  s  Magazine,   The, 

264 
Germany,  278 ;   influence  of, 

8  ;  music  in,  258 
Gesta  Romanorum,  67 
Gestes,  Chansons  de,  49 
Gibbon,    Edward,  265,  266; 

History  of  the  Decline  and 

Fall  of  the  Eoman  Empire, 

266 

Gilbert,  111,  161 
Gleeman,  24 
Gloucester,  Humphrey,  Duke 

of,  100 

Gododin,  The,  47 
Godwin,  Mary,  372 
Godwin,  William,  372  ,•  Caleb 

Williams,  398,  439 
Goldsmith,  Oliver,  265,282; 

at  school,  283  ;  at  Trinity 

College,  284 ;  Bee,  The,  288; 

biography    and    criticism, 

291  ;    Citizen  of  the  World, 

The,  284,   286,    288,    289; 


INDEX 


545 


compared  to  Pope,  289; 
death,  287  ;  The  Deserted 
Village,  271,  276,  277,  283, 
284,  286,  287,  289.  290  ;  Dr. 
Johnson  .on,  286  ;  Edin. 
burgh  and  the  Continent, 
284  ;  Enquiry  into  the  State 
of  Polite  Learning  in  Eu- 
rope,  285 ;  Good-natured 
Man,  The,  286,  288  ;  The 
Hermit,  279;  his  character, 
282 ;  his  epitaph,  286  ;  his 
place  in  literary  history, 
288  ;  his  work,  287 ;  in  Ire- 
land, 282  ;  in  London,  285; 
life,  282;  Scott  on,  289; 
She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  286, 
288 ;  Study  List,  291  ; 
Thackeray  on,  283;  the 
Literary  Club,  286;  Trav- 
eller, The,  271,  285,  286, 
289;  Vicar  of  Wakefield, 
The,  283,  284,  286,  288,  289 

Good  Counseil,  Chaucer,  97 

Gorboduc,  105, 127 

Gordon,  Catherine,  863 

Gospel  of  St.  John,  English 
translation  of,  40 

Qower,  John,  65,  78 

Grasmere,  813 

Grave,  The,  15,  47 

Gray,  Thomas.  271 ;  Elegy  in 
a  Country  Churchyard,  271, 
276 

Greece,  106 

Greek,  in  England,  81 ;  life 
and  literature,  101 

Greeks,  279 

Green,  J.  R,  485  ;  note,  20 

Greene,  Robert,  129 ;  Honor- 
able History  of  friar  Bacon 
and  Friar  Bungay,  130 

Gregory  the  Great,  Pastoral 
Care,  AS 

Grendel,  26 

Gresham,  Sir  Thomas,  109 

Grey,  Lord  118.  121 


Griff  House,  447 
Grimbald,  43 

Grocyn,  William,  101,  163 
Guardian,  The,  204 
Guesclin,  Bertrand  du,  71 
Gunpowder,    first    used     la 

Europe,  71 
Guthlac,  the,  87 
Guy  of  Gisoorne,  note,  63  ] 


Hadrian,  81 

Hakluyt,  161 ;  Voyages,  161 

Hallam,  Arthur,  467 ;  death 
of,  467,  468 

Hamlet,  186 

Hampden,  169 

Hargreaves,  801 

Harold,  50 

Harrington,  107 

Harrison,  Frederic,  280;  Es- 
say on  the  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury, 280 

Harvey,  Gabriel,  117 

Hastings,  battle  of,  50 

Hathaway,  Ann,  186, 188 

Hawkins,  111 

Hazlitt,  899,  401 

Heart  of  Midlothian,  844 

Henry  II. ,  61 

Henry  III.,  69,  68 

Henry  IV.,  75 

Henry  VI.,  100 

Henry  VII.,  102 

Henry  VIII.,  103,  104,  126 

Henry  Esmond,  848 

Heorot.  26 

Herbert,  George,  171 

Herrick,  Robert,  8,  171 ;  and 
Milton,  178  ;  description  of 
his  verse,  172 

Heywood,  John,  126 ;  Inter. 
hides,  126,  162 

Holinshed,  128;  Description 
and  History  of  England, 
Scotland,  and  Ireland,  128 


546 


INDEX 


Holy  Alliance,  the,  360 

Homer,  106 

Hooker,  Richard,  155,  198; 
Ecclesiastical  Polity,  155 

Horace,  3 

Howard,  Henry,  Earl  of  Sur- 
rey, 104,  105 

Howard,  John,  258 

Hrothgar,  26 

Hudibras,  Butler's,  191,  486 

Hugo,  Victor,  278 

Hume,  David,  266 

Hundred  Tears'  War,  the,  64 ; 
Chronicles  of,  71. 

Huntingdon,  Abbey  of,  42 

Huntingdon,  Henry  of,  53 

Hutchinson,  Mary,  813 


Ilissus,  807 

India,  261, 409 

Industrial  and  social  changes, 

261 

Interludes,  126, 182 
lona,  Irish  mission  station  at, 

81 

Ireland,  Spenser  in,  118 
Isabella,  184 
Isembras,  Sir,  69 
Isolde,  see  Tristram 
Italian  influence,  period  of, 

99,  105 
Italy,  101,  106,  176,  409,  484 ; 

influence  of,  8  ;  New  Learn. 

ing   of,  73 ;   situation   of, 

107  ;  see  also.  Renaissance 
Imnlwe,  344 


James  L,  7, 110, 198 
Jarrow,  Monastery  of,  83 
John,  reign  of,  57,  63 
Johuson,  Samuel,   263;  as  a 
satirist.   267;    death,     265; 


English  Dictionary,  265 ; 
his  life,  264;  his  works, 
265;  The  Idler,  265;  in 
London,  264  ;  Lives  of  the 
Poets,  267  ;  London,  267 ; 
personal  peculiarities,  285 ; 
poems,  275;  The  Rambler, 
265,  267  ;  Rassela*,  267  ; 
the  prose  writer  of  an  age 
of  prose,  266 ;  Vanity  of 
Human  Wishes,  The,  267, 
275 

Jongleur,  69 

Jonson,  Ben,  112,  170 ;  de* 
cline  of  the  drama,  170 ; 
Every  Man  in  his  Humor, 
169 

Judith,  87 

Juliana,  The,  87 

Jutes,  The,  18 


Keats,  John,  878,  406,  458; 
as  a  master  of  form,  387 ; 
as  a  poet,  886 ;  at  Enfield, 
879 ;  biography  and  criti- 
cism, 394;  Byron  and 
Shelley,  878;  death,  385; 
Eve  of  St.  Agnes,  The,  385, 
887 ;  Endymion,  883 ; 
Endymion  and  its  critics, 
883 ;  friendship  of  Charles 
Cowden  Clarke,  880;  his 
love  and  ill-health,  385  ;  his 
place  as  a  poet,  388;  his 
rapid  development,  384 ; 
Hyperion,  385 ;  La  Belle 
Dame  sans  Merci,  888 ; 
Lamia,  890 ;  Leigh  Hunt, 
882;  life.  879;  list  of 
poems,  892 ;  Ode  on  a 
O  redan  Urn,  385;  poetic 
limitations,  891  ;  settles  in 
London,  882  ;  Study  List, 
892 ;  theory  of  poetry,  389 

Eemble.  John,  275 


INDEX 


547 


Kenilworth,   Castle    of,   110, 

137 

Kent,  Church  in,  80 
Keswick,  326 
King  John,  115 
Kinglake,  435 
King's  College,  100 
Kingsley,   Charles.  898,  432, 

440  ;  Alton  Locke,  440 
Kilcolman,    Castle    of,    118, 

123 

Knight,  Charles,  401 
Knight's  Tale,  account  of,  87, 

94 
Knowledge,  general  diffusion 

of,  396 
Kyd,  Thomas,  129;  Spanish 

'Tragedy,  The,  129 


Lake  School,  278 

Lamb,  Charles,  856,  899, 
401 ;  and  Wordsworth, 
857 ;  as  critic  and  poet,  859  ; 
biography  and  criticism, 
859  ;  Essays  of  Etta,  358  ;  his 
sister's  insanity,  356 ;  John 
Woodvil,  857;  life,  857; 
Mr.  H——,  357  ;  Specimens 
of  English  Dramatic  Poets, 
358;  Study  List,  358; 
Tales  Founded  on  the  Plays 
of  Shakespeare,  858  ;  works, 
357 

Lancaster,  Duke  of,  see  Gaunt, 
John  of 

Lancelot,  55 

Laudo  Walter  Savage,  401, 
435 

Lan  franc,  49,  59 

Langland,  William,  78,  98; 
Piers  Plowman,  805 

Language,  English  and  Nor. 
man,  51  ;  making  of  the, 
63  ;  triumph  of,  51 

Latin.  49  65  ;  writers,  the,  51 


Laud,  Archbishop,  158 

Laura,  73  -* 

Layamon,  Brut,  56,  67;  ao 
count  of,  58,  59 

Lear,  King,  68 

Learning,  revival  of,  99; 
under  Alfred,  42  ;  the  new. 
100 

Leicester,  Bail  of,  118 

Leopardi,  474 

Lewes,  Georgo  Henry,  449 

Life,  splendor  of,  109 

Linacre,  Thomas,  101,  162 

Lincolnshire,  461,  465 

Literature,  after  Pope,  263 ; 
after  the  Conquest,  67; 
birthplace  of,  82  ;  criticism 
and  history  of,  48 ;  defini- 
tion of,  1;  Elizabethan, 
105 ;  general  diffusion  of, 
896;  its  permanence  ana 
universality,  2 ;  Qf  the 
people,  60 ;  old  FreiOh,  66 ; 
rise  of  periodical,  200; 
Victorian  era  in,  404 

Lives  ofhe  Saints,  40 

Locrine,  58 

London,  65,  69,  75,  106,  107, 
108;  a  walled  town,  112; 
Bridge,  114 ;  literary  circles 
in  eighteenth  century,  264 ; 
London  Quarterly,  the, 
400;  of  Shakespeare,  112, 
113;  Royal  Exchange  in,  109 

Longfellow,  77 

Lorris,  Quillaume  de,  79 

Louis  XJV.,  7,  192 

Lovelace,  Richard,  171 

Lowell,  James  Russell,  76, 
81 ;  on  Pope,  272 

Lucretius,  474 

Lucy,  Sir  Thomas.  188 

Luther,  Martin,  108 

Lycidas,  I  78 

Lyell,  Sir  Charles,  Principle! 
of  Qeulogy,  404 

Lyly,  John.  129.  155 


548 


INDEX 


M 

Jfabinogion,  Guest's,   19,  30, 

47;  The  Boys',  47 
Macaulay,   Thomas   Babing- 

ton,    265,    406,   407,   434; 

Essays,    2,  409;    his    life, 

407-409;   his  works,  409- 

411 ;   History  of  England, 

410 

Machault,  Guillaume  de,  79 
Macklin,  275 
Macpherson,  James,  Ossian, 

279 

Maldon,  Fight  at,  44 
Malmesbury,   Monastery  of, 

32 

Malmesbury,  William  of,  53 
Malory,  Sir  Thomas,  Morte 

d' Arthur,  102,  154 
Man  of  Lawe's  Tale,  88-90, 

97    ' 

Manchester,  860,  440 
Map,  Walter,  55 
Marlowe,    Christopher,    105, 

129,  130,  131 ;  Edward  II., 

129,    131 ;    Faustus,    131 ; 

Jew   of  Malta,    The,  131 ; 

Tamburlaine,  181,  139 
Marston,  169 
Martineau,  Harriet,  449 
Martin  eau,  James,  449 
Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  108 ; 

reign  of,  108,  121 
Massinger,  169 
Master  of  BaUantrae,    The, 

343 
Maurice,   Frederic   Denison, 

398,  432,  465 
Maypoles,  172,  191 
Mazarin,  192 
Medici,  Lorenzo  de,  101 
Mediterranean,  English  trade, 

108 

Merlin,  55 

Mermaid  Tavern,  113 
Metternich,  860 


Mickle,  SV9  ;  Manner*  Wife. 
279 

Middle  Ages,  79 

Millet,  273 

Milton,  John,  110,  173,  174, 
176, 190,  818,  489,  496 ;  and 
Shakespeare,  186 ;  Areo- 
pagitica,  3,  179  ;  at  Christ's 
College,  175 ;  at  Horton, 
175  ;  biography  and  criti- 
cism, 188  ;  boyhood,  174 ; 
Comus,  90, 176;  Epitaphium 
Damonis,  179  ;  his  ideal  of 
life,  183  ;  II  Penseroso,  175, 
187;  L' Allegro,  175,  187; 
later  poetic  period,  180 ; 
life,  175-186  ;  Lycidas,  178, 
187  ;  Masson's  life  of,  176  ; 
On  tJie  Death  of  a  Fair 
Infant  Dying  of  a  Cough, 
175 ;  Paradise  Lost,  105, 
179,  181,  182,  184,  185, 187, 
271  ;  Paradise  Regained, 
105,  182,  185  ;  prose  works, 
179  ;  Psalms,  Paraphrase  of  t 
174 ;  religious  and  political 
liberty  of  his  time,  167; 
return  to  England,  179 ; 
Samson  Agonistes,  182,  184, 
187 ;  Study  List,  187  ;  Ten- 
ure  of  Kings  and  MagiS' 
trates,  The,  180;  the  Eng- 
land of,  164  ;  Tractate  on 
Education,  179;  travels,  178 

Minot,  Lawrence,  67 

Minshull,  Elizabeth,  183 

Minstrel,  69 

Miracle  plays,  126 

Moliere,  4,  192 

Monasteries,  destruction  of, 
at  Jarrow,  42  ;  at  Holy  Isle, 
42 

Monastic  schools,  rise  of,  81 

Mon mouth,  Geoffrey  of,  55 ; 
History  of  Britain,  79 

Moore,  Thomas,  860;   Lotto 


INDEX 


549 


Moral  plays,  126 

More,  Sir  Thomas,   101,  106, 

128,  162  ;   History  of  Rich. 

ard  IIJ.,  101,  154  ;  Utopia, 

101 

Morley,  Henry,  497 
Morris,  William,  460;  Earthly 

Paradise,   The,  460 ;   Life 

and  Death  of  Jason,  460 
Morte  d' Arthur,  gee  Malory 
Mother  Hubbard's  Tale,  11  ' 
Mythology,  Teutonic,  21 


Napoleon,  359 

National  pride,  115 

New  History  of  King  Leir, 
The,  128 

New  Learning1,  the,  7,  73 

Newspapers,  399 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  197 

New  World,  discoFery  of, 
102 

Novel,  history  of  the,  207, 
246 ;  Beowulf,  208  ;  Defoe, 
207,  246  ,  drama,  Eliza- 
bethan, 207;  English  fic- 
tion, eirly  history,  208 ; 
Fielding,  207,  248  •  growth 
of  the,  439  i  Italian,  106; 
Iliad,  208 ;  mediaeval  ro- 
mance, 208  ;  Odyssey,  208 ; 
of  domestic  life,  246 ; 
origin  of,  208  ;  Richardson, 
207,  246 ;  Study  Lists,  214, 
252 ;  Swift,  246 

Nonne  Prestes  Tale,  TJie,  97 

North,  Sir  Thomas,  transla- 
tion of  Plutarch's  Live*,  107 

Northumbria,  31,  83;  Csed- 
mon  and  Bede  in,  33 ;  home 
of  Cynewulf,  33  ;  literary 
supremacy  of ,  88  -  of 
Alcuin,  33 

Norton,  105 


Normandy,  loss  of,  63 
Normans,  the,  12 ;  account 
of,  48-50;  chivalry,  49; 
from  Alfred  to,  45 ;  in- 
fluence of,  48,  65 ;  inter- 
marriages, 50 ;  Norman 
architecture,  49  ;  Norman 
Conquest,  6  ;  their  adapta- 
bility, 50 ;  their  civiliza- 
tion, 50 ;  their  effect  on 
language,  49 ;  their  poets, 
49 
Nuneaton,  447 


Oderlcus  Vitalis,  53 
(Edipus  at  Colonus,  3 
Old  Mortality,  844 
Oliphant,      Margaret,     440; 

Chronicles  of   Carlingford, 

440 

Omar  Khayyam,  2 
Orient,  261 
Orlando  Furioso,  107 
Ormulum,  60 
Orr,  Mrs.,  482 
Ovid,    79,     106 ;    Metamor* 

phoses,  106 
Owen,  Robert,  398 
Oxford  7,100 


Padua.  101 

Paradise    Lost,    see    Milton, 

John 

Paris,  Matthew,  53 
Parliament,  64,  3«J7 
Pascal,  192 
Pater,  Walter,  435 
Peele,    George,    129;  Edward 

I.,  129 

Penny  Magazine,  The,  401 
Penshurst,  117 
People,  prosperity  of,  108 
Percy,  Bishop,  279;  Iteliquet 


550 


INDEX 


of  Ancient  English  Poetry, 
279 

Peterborough,  Abbey  of,  42 

Petrarch,  72,  75,  80,  104 

Philippa,  Queen,  78 

Philosophers,  Dictes  and  Say- 
ings of,  102 

Pico  di  Mirandola,  life  of,  106 

Piers  Plowman,  Vision  of, 
73 

Pitt,  William,  258.  259,  260, 
262 

Plantagenet,  63 

Plassey,  261 

Plato,  106 

Poems,  Anglo-Latin,  66 

Poet,  the,  in  Early  English, 
23 

Poetry,  22;  Anglo-Norman, 
53 ;  Norman-French,  re- 
lation to  English  Litera- 
ture, 54  ;  of  Doubt,  461  ; 
of  Evasion,  459  ;  of  Faith 
and  Hope,  462;  popular, 
60 ;  recent,  458 

Polyolbion,  see  Drayton 

Pope,  Alexander,  103,  235, 
243,  263,  273,  275,  866  ;  at 
Twickenham,  241 ;  biog- 
raphy and  criticism,  245 ; 
Dunciad,  The,  242,  243; 
Essay  on  Criticism,  236 ; 
Essay  on  Man,  242,  243, 
245,  264  ;  Iliad,  TJie,  trans- 
lation of,  242  ;  life  of,  235; 
Messiah,  The,  237 ;  meter, 
272  ;  Odyssey,  The,  transla- 
tion of,  242  ;  Pastorals,  The, 
236  ;  Rape  of  the  Lock,  The, 
237,  239,  244,  245,  264; 
short  poems,  245 ;  Study 
List,  245  ;  Windsor  Forest, 
237,  240,  241 

Pope,  the,  73 

Portia,  184 

Powell,  Mary,  180 

Printing,  102 


Protestantism,  107 
Prynne,  198 

Psalms,  translations  of,  87 
Psalter,  The,  versions  of,  57 
Puritan,   the,    109,    170;   In 

literature,  164 
Puttenham,     155 ;     Art     oj 

English  Poesie,  155 
Pym,  169 

Q 

fcuarles,  Francis,  171 
Quebec,  261 
jjueen,  loyalty  to,  116 
Queen's  College,  100 
jjuin,  275 

B 

Racedown,  812 

Racine,  7,  192 

Railroad,  Liverpool  and  Man- 
chester, 403 

Raleigh,  Sir  Walter.  Ill,  112, 
118,  198;  History  of  the 
World,  158 

Ramsay,  Allan,  270  ;  Gentle 
Shepherd,  Ihe,  270 

Re-birth,  see  Renaissance 

Redgauntlet,  344 

Reform  Bill,  397, 401,  476 

Reformation,  the,  72,  74,  103, 
104,  166 

Reign  of  Terror,  359 

Religious  persecution,  free- 
dom from,  107 

Renaissance,  6,  70,  99-104, 
116,  165,  176,  262,  280; 
Italian,  109,  123;  "The 
Renaissance  of  Wonder," 
460 

Restoration,  170 ;  changes 
at,  191 

Revival  of  Learning,  165 

Revolution,  age  of,  ?62-, 
French,  see  Carlyle;  later 
poets  of,  359 


INDEX 


651 


Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  265 
Rhyming  Chronicle,  note,  64 
fcialto,  109 

Richard  II.,  75 

Richardson,  Samuel,  247,  252; 
Clarissa  Harlowe,  249 ; 
critics  on,  250  ;  Dr.  John, 
son  on,  249 ;  facility  in 
letter-writing,  248 ;  his 
novels,  249 ;  Pamela,  or 
Virtue  Rewarded,  247,  249, 
439;  Sir  Charles  O-randi- 
ton,  249 ;  his  understanding 
of  women,  248 

Richelieu,  192 

Robert  of  Gloucester,  Rhyn^ 
ing  Chronicle,  note,  64 

Robertson,  William,  266 

Robin  Hood,  61,  62  ;  song  of, 
62 

Robinson,  Henry  Crabbe, 
Diary  of,  329 

Roland,  Song  of,  58 

Romance,  after  the  Restora- 
tion, 211 ;  Ben  Jonson's, 
Cynthia's  Revels,  212 ; 
Cycles  of,  54 ;  during 
seventeenth  century,  210 ; 
French  romances,  210 ; 
Joseph  Hall  and  John  Earle, 
212 ;  Jusserand,  210  ;  Nash 
forerunner  of  realistic  nov- 
elists, 211 ;  Overbury's 
Characters,  212 ;  Romance 
of  the  Rose,  79 

Romanists,  397 

Romantic  Middle  Age,  the, 
50 

Romantic  School,  278,  279; 
definition  of,  278 

Rome,  72,  106;  Church  of, 
196 

Romola,  343 

Roses,  Wars  of  the,  100 

Rossetti,  Dante  Gabriel,  459, 
483  ;  his  poetry,  460  ;  Bal- 
lad of  the  White  Ship,  The, 


460  ;  I&essed  Damozd,  The, 
460;  King's  Tragedy,  The, 
460  ;  Rose  Mary,  460 

Round  Table,  Knights  of, 
see  Arthur;  Wace's  poem 
on,  55 

Rousseau,  262,  424 

Royal  Society,  197 

Ruskin,  John,  836,  898,  406, 
452,  461 ;  account  of,  425- 
435  ;  and  Carlyle,  425  ;  and 
Keats,  425;  and  Words- 
worth,  425  ;  as  a  teacher, 
429 ;  as  social  reformer, 
431 ;  Crown  of  Wild  Olive, 
433  ;  descriptions  of  nature, 
426-428;  Fort  Clavigera, 
433 ;  Modern  Painters,  429  ; 
principles  of  art,  428 ;  Se~ 
#tme  and  Lilies,  note,  178 ; 
Seven  lamps  of  Architecture, 
430 ;  Stones  of  Venice,  480  ; 
Study  List,  498  ;  Time  and 
Tide,  433 ;  Unto  thit  Last, 
433 

Rydal  Mount,  818 


8 


Sackvflle,  105:  Gorboduc,  or 

Ferrex  and   Porrex,   127 ; 

Mirror  for  Magistrates,  106 
St.  Augustine,  80 
St.  Paul,    Grammar   School 

of,  101, 162, 166, 174 
St.     Peter    and    St.    Paul, 

schools  of,  32 
Sainte  Beuve,  278 
Saxneat,  21 
Saxons,  18 
School,  critical,  194 
Schopenhauer,  Arthur,  881 
Science,     the     advance    of, 

896,  402 
8c6p,  23 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  278,  880, 

307,  338,  416;   biography 


552 


INDEX 


and  criticism,  846  ;  Allot, 
The,  power  of,  843;  and 
the  historical  novel,  842 ; 
as  a  novelist,  842 ;  as  a 
poet,  341 ;  his  life,  338- 
840 ;  his  works,  340  ;  KenO- 
worth,  scenes  in,  343  ;  Lady 
of  the  Lake,  The,  341 ;  Lay 
of  the  Last  Minstrel,  The, 
840  ;  Marmion,  341 ;  poems, 
345;  Rokeby,  342;  Study 
List,  345  ;  summary,  845  ; 
Waverley  Novels,  845 

Bea-farer,  The,  16,  37,  47 

Sellwood,  Emily,  470 

Seneca,  plays  of,  106 

Shaftesbury,  195 

Shadwell,  196 

Shakespeare,  William,  91, 
105, 108,  112,  170,  274,  453, 
485,  489;  and  Chaucer, 
143  :  and  the  drama,  125  ; 
Carlyle  on,  124 ;  Classical 
Plays :  Antony  and  Cleo- 
patra, 107  ;  note,  303  ; 
Coriolanus,  107 ;  Julius 
Casar,  107,  142;  Julius 
Cmar,  special  study  of, 
153  ;  Timon  of  Athens, 
107 ;  Titus  Andronicus, 
140  ;  Comedies  :  As  Ton 
Like  It,  136,  137 ;  Comedy 
of  Errors,  140 ;  Love's 
Labor's  Lost,  140  :  Measure 
for  Measure,  145  ;  Merchant 
of  Venice,  The,  140,  145  ; 
Midsummer  Nights  Dream, 
141,  146;  Twelfth  Night, 
803;  Two  Gentlemen  of 
Verona,  140 ;  Winter's 
Tale,  The,  137, 146 ;  editions 
of,  149  ;  Emerson  on,  124  ; 
French  and  Italian  studies, 
139;  general  notes  and 
references,  150 ;  general 
suggestions  for  study,  150  ; 
grammars,  lexicons,  biog- 


raphy, criticisms,  etc.,  149; 
Greene's  reference  to,  130 ; 
his  predecessors,  129  ;  His- 
torical:  Henry  K,  133, 144  ; 
Henry  VI. .  140,  Richard 
II..  141;  in  London,  138, 
139  ;  Jonson,  Ben,  on,  138; 
life  of,  135;  love  of  the 
country,  137  ;  part  of  the 
dramatic  period,  125 ; 
Poems  :  Venus  and  Adonis, 
140 ;  Study  List,  149-154  ; 
Tragedies :  Lear,  144  ;  Mac- 
beth, 142 ;  Macbeth,  special 
study  of,  152;  Othello. 
143;  Romeo  and  Juliet,  142; 
uniting  Celt  and  Teuton, 
20  ;  works,  table  of,  148 

Sharp,  482 

Shelley,  Percy  Bysshe,  860, 
369,  406, 426,  476  ;  Adonais, 
877;  Alastor,  872,  377? 
biography  and  criticism, 
377,  ^  878  ;  departure  for 
Continent,  374  ;  England  in 
1819,  375  ;  Epipsychidion, 
375  ;  expelled  from  Oxford, 
871  ;  Hellas,  374 ;  his  death, 
375;  life  and  works,  370- 
876  ;  marriage,  371 ;  Masque 
of  Anarchy,  875 ;  Pro- 
metheus Unbound,  873 ; 
Queen  Mob,  372  ;  Revolt  of 
Islam,  373 ;  second  mar- 
riage, 372;  Sensitive  Plant, 
The,  377 ;  shorter  poems, 
377 ;  Song  of  Men  of  Eng- 
land, 375  ;  Study  List,  877 

Shenstone,  272,  279 ;  Jemmy 
Dawson,  279 ;  Schoolmis- 
tress, 272 

Sheridan,  265 

Shottery,  136 

Siddons,  Mrs.,  275;  in  Lady 
Macbeth,  275 ;  in  Queen 
Katherine,  275 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  117,  121- 


INDEX 


553 


Arcadia,  155;    Defense  of 
Poesy,  155  ;  Sonnets,  161 

Smiles,  401 

Smith,  Adam,  Wealth  of 
Nations,  267 

Smithfield,  112 

Smollett,  Tobias  George,  252, 
254 ;  fiction,  realistic  school 
of,  252;  Fielding's,  Tom 
Jones,  252 ;  Roderick  Ran- 
dom, 252 ;  Walpole's, 
Castle  of  Otranto,  252 

Snitterfield,  135 

Socialism,  71 

Somerset  House,  118 

Songs,  in  Early  England,  at 
feasts,  24 

Sonnets,  120,  161,  817,  484 

Soul's  Complaint  against  the 
Body,  The,  47 

Southampton,  Earl  of,  140 

Sou  they,  Robert,  261,  278, 
401,  406 ;  Curse  of  Kehama, 
261 

Spectator,  The,  200,  204,  265, 
400  ;  papers  in,  205 

8pedding,  James,  465 

6pencer,  Herbert,  449,  453 

Spenser,  Edmund,  99,  117, 
176;  Amoretti,  120;  and 
Raleigh,  118 ;  Arcadia, 
118 ;  as  poet,  121 ;  at  Kil- 
colman,  118  ;  at  Pembroke 
College,  117  ;  at  Penshurst, 
117 ;  biography  and  criti- 
cism, 123-124  ;  death,  121  ; 
Spithalamion,  120 ;  FaSrie 
Queene,  The,  88,  112,  119, 
120,  121,  122,  123;  first 
poems,  117;  life  of,  117; 
marriage,  120 ;  Mother 
Eubbartfa  Tale,  119  ;  Pro- 
yialamion,  120 ;  secretary 
to  Lord  Grey,  118;  Shep- 
herd's Calendar,  117 ;  Study 
List,  123 

Steele,   Richard,  201;  Addi- 


son  and,  206;  Christian 
Hero,  203  ;  Funeral,  The, 
203;  Gazette,  The,  204; 
Study  List,  206 ;  Tatter 
The,  204;  Thackeray  on, 
201 

Sterne,  254 

Stevenson,  Robert  Louis,  848 

Stowe,  128 

Strand,  The,  114 

Stratford  on  Avon,  135, 186, 
137, 141 

Stuarts,  rule  of,  168 

Study  Lists :  Addison  and 
Steele,  206  ;  Arnold,  Mat- 
thew,  499  ;  Browning,  502 ; 
Burke,  Edmund,  800 ; 
Burns,  807;  Byron,  369; 
Carlylc,  498  ;  Chaucer  and 
his  Time,  93;  Coleridge, 
836;  Defoe,  224;  De 
Quincey,  Thomas,  855  ; 
Eliot,  George,  499 ;  From 
earliest  times  to  Norman 
Conquest,  46 ;  Goldsmith, 
291;  Keats,  John,  892; 
Lamb,  858 ;  Macaulay, 
497  ;  Milton,  187  ;  Norman 
Conquest  to  Chaucer,  66 ; 
Novel,  History  of  the.  214, 
252;  Pope,  245;  Ruskin, 
498 ;  Scott,  845  ;  Shakes- 
peare, 149;  Shelley,  877; 
Spenser,  128 ;  Swift.  233  ; 
Tennyson,  500 ;  Words- 
worth,  819 

Style,  8 

Suckling,  Sir  John,  171 

Swift,  Jonathan,  225,  242, 
276 ;  as  a  satirist,  226 ; 
Battle  of  the  Book*,  T7m, 
227,  228;  biography  and 
criticism,  288;  closing 
years,  232;  compared  to 
Goldsmith,  225 ;  criticism 
on,  227,  228 ;  death,  288  ; 
Thackeray  on  1m  death. 


554 


INDEX 


233  ;  Dr.  Johnson  on,  229  ; 
enters  the  Church,  226; 
Epistles  of  Phalaris,  The, 
228 ;  Gulliver's  Travels, 
231,  276  ;  criticism  on,  231 ; 
compared  to  Robinson 
Crusoe,  232;  Harley  and 
Bolingbroke,  229 ;  his 
character,  225 ;  inclination 
for  politics,  226 ;  Journal  to 
Stella,  229  ;  Laracor,  229  ; 
political  reverses,  230;  St. 
Patrick's,  Dublin,  230 ; 
Study  List,  233 ;  Tale  of  a 
Tub,  The,  227;  Temple, 
death  of,  229 

Swinburne,  Algernon  Charles, 
459  ;  Atalaiita  in,  Calydon, 
459 


Tabard  Inn,  82,  83 

Talisman,  The,  844 

Tasso,  106,  107,  120 

Tatter,  The,  200,  265 

Taylor,  Bayard,  482 

Taylor,  Jeremy,  155 

Telegraph  first  used  in  Eng- 
land, 125,  403 

Temple,  The,  113 

Teniers,  489 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  10,  406, 
433,  458,  462,  488,  492; 
Ancient  Sage,  2he,  472 ; 
and  Browning,  464;  and 
Dante,  473 ;  and  Milton, 
463,  473;  as  a  poet  of 
nature,  474 ;  as  a  teacher, 

501  ;   at    Trinity    College, 
465 ;   Aylmer's  Field,  477  ; 
biography    and     criticism, 

502  ;    Charge  of  the   Light 
Brigade,    469 ;    Coming    of 
Arthur,  The,  477  ;  Demeter, 
472  ;   De   Profundis,    471 ; 
Dora,  469;    Enoch  Arden, 
469 ;    epic    and    dramatic 


poetry,  471 ;  friendship 
with  A.  H.  Hallam,  466; 
Galahad,  469 ;  Gardener's 
Daughter,  The,  469  ;  Gareth 
and  Lynette,  477  ;  grammar 
school  at  Lowth,  465 ; 
Guinevere,  479  ;  his  death, 
472;  his  style,  473;  his 
work,  472 :  home  at  Far- 
ringford,  470 ;  home  train- 
ing, 464  ;  Idylls  of  the  King, 
102,  469,471,  501 ;  criticism 
of,  477-481 ;  in  Lincoln- 
shire, 464 ;  In  Memoriam, 
480,  501 ;  Last  Tournament, 
The,  478  ;  life,  464 ;  Locks- 
ley  Hall,  468,  469,  471,  477; 
Lotos  Haters,  The,  489; 
Lucretius,  469 ;  marriage, 
470  ;  Maud,  469,  475,  477 ; 
natural  descriptions,  500 ; 
Northern  Farmer,  469 ; 
Passing  of  Arthur,  The, 
479  ;  Poems,  Chiefly  Lyrical, 
406 ;  poems  with  his 
brother  Charles,  466  ;  Poet 
Laureate,  470 ;  poet  of 
man,  476  ;  poet  of  modern 
science,  475  ;  Princess,  The, 
477 ;  prize  poem  Timbuc- 
too,  466  ;  Queen  Mary,  471 ; 
Revenge,  The,  469 ;  scientific 
view  of  nature,  474 ;  Study 
List,  500  ;  study  of  works, 
500  ;  Stylites,  469  ;  the  poet 
of  art,  473  ;  theory  of  art, 
500  ;  Two  Voices,  The,  468  j 
Voyage  of  Mceldune,  469 

Testament,  the  New,  101 

Teutons,  the,  17 

Thackeray,  William  Make- 
peace, 343,  406,  443;  at 
Cambridge,  443  ;  English 
Humorists,  445 ;  Henry 
Esmond,  445 ;  Pendennis. 
444;  Vanity  Fair,  443, 
444  ;  Virginians,  The,  445 


INDEX 


555 


Thames,  the,  114 

Theaters:  Blackfriars.  189; 
Curtain,  The,  132 ;  Fortune, 
The,  132  ;  Globe,  The,  132, 
141 ;  Rose,  The,  132  ;  thea- 
ters, the  early,  132 ;  thea- 
ters, Mr.  Symonds  on, 
134 

Theodore  of  Tarsus,  31 

Thompson,  James,  258,  270, 
273,  275  ;  Cattle  of  Indo- 
lence, The.  272  ;  Seasons, 
The,  270,  272,  275 

Thompson,  James  (the  latter), 
461 ;  City  of  Dreadful 
Night,  The,  461 ;  He  Heard 
Tier  Sing,  462;  Sunday  at 
Hampstead,  462 ;  Sunday 
up  the  River,  462 

Thor,  21 

Tiber,  the,  307 

Tiptof  t,  John,  Earl  of  Worces- 
ter, 102 

Tiw,  21 

Tottel's  Miscellanies  of  Un- 
certain Authors,  105 

Tourneur,  Cyril.  170 

Translators,  work  of,  106 

Trench,  R.  C.,  466 

Tristram,  55 

Troilus  and  Cressida,  79 

Troublesome  Raign  of  King 
John,  TJie,  128 

Troy,  Tale  of,  69 

Tyndale,  103;  translation  of 
the  Bible,  103, 154 


Udall,  Nicholas,  127;   Rolf* 
Roister  Doister,  127 


Vaeco  di  Gama.  102 
Vaughan,  Henry,  177 
Venice,  106, 114 


Vergil,  79,  162 
Verona,  see  Venice 
Yitelli,  Cornelius,  101 


Wace,  55 

Wales,     The    Four    Ancient 

Books  of,  47 

Wallace,  Alfred  R.,  404 
Wallace,  William,  807 
Waller,  Edmund,  193 
Walpole,  Horace,   259,  260^ 

261,  263 

Wanderer,  The,  15 
Ward,  Mrs.,  MarceUa,  898 
Warner,  William,  128;    At- 

bion's  England,  128 
Warwick,  187 
Warwickshire,  185,  186,  187, 

447 

Waterloo,  battle  of,  860 
Watt,  281 

Watts,  Theodore,  460 
Webster,    169 ;     Duchess  tf 

Malfi,  169 ;  Vittoria  Corom- 

bona,  169 

Wedmore,  treaty  of,  42,  45 
Weekly  Register,  The,  400 
Wesley,  John,  262 
Westminster  Review,  The,  400 
Whitby,  Monastery  of,  83 
Widsith,  24 
Wife  of  Bath,  91 
Wilberforce,  258 
Wilkes,  281 
William  III.,  204 
William  IV.,  897 
Windsor,  175 
Wither,  191 
Woden,  21 

Wolfe  at  Quebec,  261 
Woodcock,  Katherine,  180 
Wordsworth,    William,  268, 

278,  279,  808,  810,  886,  859, 

860,  861,  867,  401,  406,  438, 

469,    475,     488,    492;    An 


556 


INDEX 


Evening  Walk,  812;  and 
Coleridge,  812;  and  the 
French  Revolution,  809; 
as  a  poet,  813;  as  poet 
of  democracy,  318;  at 
Alfoxden,  312;  at  Hawkes- 
head  School,  811;  beauty 
of  his  life,  317;  biography 
and  criticism,  823;  death, 
813;  Descriptive  Sketches, 
312;  first  venture  in  poetry, 
312;  his  sister  Dorothy, 
812;  his  teaching,  315;  in 
London,  311;  life,  810-313; 
limitations  of  his  view  of 
nature,  316;  lyrical,  323; 
Lyrical  Ballads,  312;  mar- 
riage, 313;  Matthew  Arnold 
on,  818;  narrative  poems, 
823;  odes,  318,  819, 823;  on 


the  Continent,  311;  Poet 
Laureate,  813;  Racedown, 
312;  Raisley  Calvert.  312; 
return  to  England,  311; 
Rydal  Mount,  313;  sonnets, 
823;  Study  List,  319;  sus- 
ceptibility to  natural 
beauty,  311;  sympathy 
with  French  Revolution, 
311 

Wyatt,  Thomas,  104,  105 

Wycherley,  259 

Wycaf,  John,  65,  78,  74* 
100 

Wyrd,  23 


York  House,  113 

Young,  Night  ThougJX*,  283 


A     000  085  563     5 


